Born For This
by narniagirl11
Summary: When their siblings are torn away, Edmund and Susan must find a way to defend their country at all costs against the greedy Telmarines. Succeed or fail, they must trust that Aslan has a reason for it all. Because long before their hearts could run the risk, they were born for this. Edmund & Susan sibling fic. End of the Golden Age AU
1. Hunt for a Wish

**Author's note: **Hello dear readers! I am about to embark on another journey, this time starring Susan and Edmund. (For those of you who haven't read "Airplanes in the Night Sky", my last story mainly focused on Peter, though Edmund played an important role as well.) I was originally going to wait until Saturday to post this after my writing teacher helped me edit it, but I could wait! :D This is my next long fic, chosen by your votes on my profile page.

I have made a trailer for this fic which is available at www. youtube watch ?v=D_rZzZJy ILw. You'll have to remove the spaces of the link or just go to youtube and look up Narnia: Born For This - FanFiction Trailer.

This is an end of the Golden Age/Invasion of Telmar AU. Please note that since it is AU, I have moved up the invasion of the Telmarines quite a bit. The year is 1015 and nearly a year after the events in "The Horse and His Boy". Hope you like it!

* * *

**Chapter 1 - Hunt for a Wish**

"Telmar is at it again," Edmund sighed as he slid into a chair beside his sister.

Susan looked grave. "Is it serious?"

"No," Edmund replied as he straightened. "Peter will know how to handle it."

"Where is Peter?" Susan asked as she remembered her elder brother.

"He went to tea at Tumnus's cave with Lucy," Edmund answered. "They'll be back soon. Lucy wanted to ask Tumnus about the White Stag." He chuckled. "I'm afraid that she has set her heart on catching that elusive Stag."

Susan smiled. "Yes. Ever since Mr. Tumnus said the White Stag had been sighted, Lucy has wanted to catch him so he will grant her a wish. But she won't say what she wants to wish for."

"You'll have to wait and see," Edmund replied. He stood up again. "We have an hour until the court meets."

"Thank you," Susan responded as she stood up as well. "I should get ready." She smiled at her brother before walking towards the door. She looked back over her shoulder. "Don't spend too much time worrying over the issue with Telmar."

"I won't, Su," Edmund promised as she closed the door. He sat down in his chair at his desk and stared at the papers in front of him. Moments later the door opened again and Susan reentered. "That was quick," Edmund commented.

"Sorry." Susan smiled. "I wanted to ask you something."

"Of course," Edmund answered, as he returned to his papers.

"Well, it's been almost a year since the affair with Prince Rabadash and the attack on Anvard…" Susan trailed off. "Are you listening?"

Edmund looked up. "What? Oh, yes, of course."

"Edmund, put the paper away until I am finished, please," Susan requested.

Edmund gave a smirk and pushed his papers out of reach. Then he folded his hands. "Now I am listening, Susan."

"Alright," Susan agreed. "As I said before, it's been almost a year since our near imprisonment in Tashbaan, due to Prince Rabadash, and the attack on Anvard."

Edmund interrupted. "Does this involve a celebration in honor of you not marrying the prince?"

"No, Ed," Susan laughed. "Would you like me to host one?"

"Of course not, sister," Edmund answered.

Susan came closer to Edmund's desk and leaned in. "I propose that we invite Cor, Corin and Aravis for a visit."

"So it is a celebration," Edmund answered.

"We haven't seen them in several months, Edmund," Susan reminded as she ignored his comment. "I think it would be enjoyable if they came for a week or so. Shall I write to them?"

"Well," Edmund replied, "it's not really for me to decide. You'll have to ask Peter when he returns, but I think he will probably agree."

"I knew that was what you would say," Susan replied. "Thank you. I'll see you in the throne room shortly." She patted his hand and disappeared into the hall. Edmund shook his head, an amused smile still playing on his face. Then he reached for the documents regarding Telmar and his smile faded.

* * *

"I wish Mr. Tumnus knew more about the White Stag," Lucy announced as they rode through the forest on their way home to the castle, Cair Paravel.

"I think you know plenty, Lucy," Peter answered.

"Yes, but I don't know how to catch it," Lucy replied, ducking a low branch that waved in the path.

"I think you can figure that out on your own." Peter smiled.

"Peter! Look!" Lucy exclaimed as her eyes locked on a bit of white in the bushes.

"What, Lucy?"

"I thought I saw the White Stag," Lucy answered, still staring at the same place.

"Come on, Lu," Peter replied. "Stop teasing me."

"No, I'm serious!" Lucy exclaimed.

"Well, where did you see it?" Peter asked.

"To the right," Lucy answered. "Follow me." She urged her horse into a trot and disappeared into the undergrowth. Peter quickly squeezed his horse with his heels and followed. "I saw it again, Peter!" Lucy shouted excitedly. They came to a path and could see the stag bounding away in front of them. Lucy spurred her horse forward and the chase began. The trees and floating leaves disappeared quickly as Lucy set her gaze on the back of the silvery creature ahead of her. But no matter how fast she rode, the stag was always faster. It puzzled Lucy.

"Can you still see it, Lucy?" Peter asked.

"Yes," Lucy answered. "But I don't know how we are going to catch it."

"We'll think of something," assured Peter. Lucy nodded and they increased their speed again. Peter caught a glimpse of the stag as it darted off the path. Without hesitating, the siblings raced after it.

"Just a little farther," Lucy whispered to herself in her excitement. Peter had followed closely behind Lucy but now he was beginning to fall behind. Soon he lost sight of the stag and Lucy slowed down a little. "Come on, Peter!" she exclaimed. "You're riding so slowly! I can just barely make out the stag's antlers now!"

"I'm coming, Lucy!" Peter called back. "I'm just a little more tired than usual."

Lucy wheeled her horse around so she could face Peter. "Are you unwell, Peter?" she asked in concern.

"No, Lucy," Peter answered reassuringly. "I stayed up too late last night."

Lucy frowned. "Is it that conflict with the Telmarines again?"

Peter avoided her gaze. "It's nothing to worry about, Lucy."

"What are you hiding from me, Peter?" Lucy asked. "You and Edmund have spent countless nights pouring over it."

"We just want to make sure that nothing serious becomes of it," Peter answered. "Oh, Lucy! I think I saw your stag bounding away." Lucy sighed longingly as she turned her horse around. "Don't give up on him yet, Lu," Peter announced. "Besides, we might still catch up!" With that, Peter spurred his horse forward. Lucy laughed and tried to catch up with him. They rode side by side and Lucy was thankful for the afternoon she had with her brother. The horses began to gallop faster through the forest as if they knew what quarry the siblings pursued. Peter's horse jumped a fallen tree as they arrived in a silent clearing.

"Hold, Artos!" Peter shouted as he reigned in his horse. He stared at the center of the clearing, forgetting the stag, and he dismounted from his steed. "What is that peculiar piece of iron?" he asked, staring up at an iron tree that caged a single flame of fire on its top.

Lucy frowned as she slid off the back of her mare and came to stand beside Peter. "It seems familiar, yet I can't think of what it is."

Peter frowned for a moment but then recalled what the thing was. "A lamppost," he explained. "After all, this is Lantern Waste, is it not?"

"True," Lucy agreed. "But as I look upon it, it works on my mind curiously. I think I can remember a road of solid rock with these lampposts standing on either side. There were people walking along the sides, near the lampposts, and strange iron beasts rushing down the middle though none of the people felt afraid."

"Quite curious, Lu," Peter answered. "Yet I think I can remember the same road of rock. I also remember a woman with hair like Susan's. She was kissing you on the cheek."

"Was she our mother?" Lucy asked.

"I don't remember," Peter confessed. "It seems so hard to grasp at these memories."

"Spare Oom," Lucy suddenly muttered.

"What?" Peter asked.

"Spare Oom," Lucy repeated. "The spare room! The wardrobe!" She picked up her trailing skirt and began to run west into the thickets.

"Lucy!" Peter exclaimed in surprise. "What about the stag?"

"Come on!" Lucy urged.

"Ow! These branches are so thick!" Peter observed as one tried to seize his crown. "The trees are so close together." He could just make out Lucy's golden hair through the green branches. "Slow down, Lucy," he urged. Lucy waited for him to catch up before seizing his hand and dragging him further into the trees.

"Can't you remember, Peter?" Lucy asked.

"Remember what?" Peter asked. "Hang on, these aren't branches."

"No, they're coats," Lucy answered.

"The wardrobe, that's what you meant," Peter exclaimed as he suddenly remembered. "Lucy, stop! We can't go back through the wardrobe!" He pulled his hand free from Lucy's grip. He could just make out her shape standing in the shadows.

"Why can't we go back?" she asked.

"Lucy, I thought you loved Narnia. We have a kingdom to rule and Susan and Edmund are still back at Cair Paravel," Peter protested.

"Just a peek, Peter," Lucy pleaded.

"Lucy, there is nothing there for us," Peter reminded. "Everything we love is here. Aslan is here."

"I know." Lucy sighed. "But I just can't help but want to see a peek of our world after all these years."

"Lucy, it's foolish," Peter replied.

"Something is pulling me," Lucy whispered. "I feel like – Oh! Help, Peter!"

"Lucy!" Peter shouted and fought his way through the coats. "Lucy?" But Lucy didn't answer. Peter could see a sliver of light ahead and it began to widen. "Lucy, no!" But it was too late and they tumbled out onto the dusty floor.

* * *

**Author's note: **Sorry to leave you hanging, er, falling out of a wardrobe. Lol. I'm not sure when I will update because my school schedule is really intense right now (studying for a US History CLEP exam). And I promise that I will not neglect my other stories either.

I sincerely hope you enjoyed this new story. Do you have any suggestions for me regarding this chapter or future ones? I'd love to hear from you! Review. :)


	2. Noticed Absence

**Author's note: **Here's Chapter 2, folks! Thanks for all your reviews on the last chapter!

* * *

**Chapter 2 – Noticed Absence**

"Edmund, have Lucy and Peter returned yet?" Susan asked as she looked into his study.

"No, I'm afraid that I haven't seen them," Edmund answered. "Maybe you should ask the sentries. Perhaps they have spotted something."

"Yes, but if they had found anything amiss they would have alerted us," Susan replied. "And I'm sure that if Peter and Lucy had returned, they would have come to see us."

"Would you like me to see what I can discover?" Edmund offered.

"Thank you," Susan answered. "But if you're busy…" She gestured to the parchments scattered around Edmund's desk.

"No, I need a break," Edmund quickly replied. He set his quill pen down and rose to his feet. "Let us check the stables first." He offered his arm. "Shall we?"

"Of course," Susan answered, tucking her hand in the crook of his elbow. They walked silently down the hallway to the central room where the staircases to the second floor started. Straight ahead was the throne room and to the right was the ballroom. Edmund led Susan through the double doors to the left which brought them out onto a portico in a courtyard that overlooked the gardens rambling down the hill. The blustering wind shocked them with its coolness and splattered them with rather large rain drops.

"We're going to have to run, Susan," Edmund announced with a mischievous smile. Susan kept one hand on Edmund's arm and used the other hand to lift her skirts. "Ready?" Edmund asked. "Now!" They took off sprinting down the pebbled path to the right, past the training grounds and the armory, until they came to the large barn. Edmund hurried Susan inside and the massive door banged behind them. Susan let out a half sigh, half laugh as she flung herself down on a pile of hay in the corner.

"The wind picked up quickly," Edmund commented as he left himself fall down beside her.

"I hope Peter and Lucy take shelter," Susan replied. "Maybe that's why they aren't home yet. Perhaps they stopped at the Beavers'."

"I hope you are right," Edmund answered. He looked around in the darked barn. The smell of sweet hay filled his nose.

Susan sneezed and then laughed. "Usually you're the one sneezing." She poked Edmund with her slender finger.

"Not today, my sister," he responded. "Today you are the sneezing farm maiden with hay in your hair."

"Stop teasing me," Susan answered. "I thought we came to look for Peter and Lucy."

"True," Edmund agreed as he sat up. Susan brushed the hay off his shoulders. Edmund helped her to her feet and they walked down the long row of stalls. Edmund shook his head. "Artos is not here."

"Neither is Jubilee," Susan commented.

"They aren't back yet," Edmund concluded. The barn door slammed again and they jumped. Then the door opened a second time and a stable hand trudged out of the rain leading a black gelding.

"Artos!" Susan exclaimed. She rushed towards the wet horse and examined him. Nothing seemed to be amiss. She turned to the stable hand. "Has the High King returned?"

"No, your majesty," he answered. "I found Artos standing outside the castle gate. Jubilee was there as well but when I approached her, she spooked. Guess she thought I was a ghoul or something."

Susan frowned and turned to Edmund who was deep in thought. At last he spoke to the stable hand. "Saddle up a horse for me and alert the Captain of the Guard." Edmund looked at Susan who watched him anxiously. "Fetch my heavy cloak, please."

Susan grabbed his arm. "Edmund, please let me come with."

Edmund hesitated but as he looked into Susan's concerned face he made up his mind. "Very well, Susan," he relented. "Put something warm on."

Susan let out a breath. "Thank you, Ed. I couldn't bear to stay here alone."

Edmund looked over his shoulder at the stable hand. "Ready a horse for my sister as well. Give her a steady mount that won't spook in this unusual weather."

"Of course, your majesty," replied the stable hand.

"We'll find them, Su," Edmund promised. Susan nodded, trusting her brother's words.

Susan and Edmund rode in silence. The scouts had been sent out into the woods before them to begin searching. Only their bodyguards remained with them. Edmund kept one hand on the hilt of his sword. Not a word had been spoken between the siblings since they set out. They were both alone with their fears.

The wind still howled around them and the trees shook viciously. Their leafless branches scraped against the sky and cast eerie shadows. The moon only shed a tiny sliver of light into the thick forest. Susan carried a lantern in her shaking hand. She began to imagine gruesome faces in the twisted branches. The dark woods were beginning to disturb her. While the majority of the trees were loyal to them, it was also commonly known that many trees and fell beasts in this region still upheld the practices of the Witch. Susan tried to brush these thoughts away and trust that Aslan would keep them safe. But she knew she didn't have the faith that Lucy possessed and the fear kept returning.

"There's nothing out there," Edmund said at last, noticing Susan's growing discomfort.

"I know," Susan answered. "But there is just a feeling gnawing at me. I can't push it away. Something is wrong."

"I think we should ride towards the Beavers' lodge," suggested Edmund. "Perhaps they can offer us shelter for the night." Susan didn't argue and they left the path. Soon they could see twinkling lights coming from the windows of the Beavers' lodge. Susan slipped off her horse and went to the door while Edmund tied the horses under the cover of the trees.

Mrs. Beaver opened the door when Susan knocked. "Bless my paws!" she exclaimed. "Come in, come in, dearie." She took hold of Susan's hands. "Oh! You're cold as a fish. Beaver! Put another log on the fire." Mr. Beaver didn't protest when he caught sight of who the visitors were.

"Thank you," Susan said as Mrs. Beaver seated her in front of the fire and stripped off her wet mittens and coat.

"Well, look who else is here!" Mr. Beaver commented as Edmund stooped to enter the doorway. He closed the door firmly behind him.

"Sit there beside the fire with your sister and warm your fingers, King Edmund," instructed Mrs. Beaver. "Then you can tell us why you two were out in the woods on an eerie night like this."

Edmund took a seat on the wooden bench beside Susan and stretched his cold fingers towards the leaping flames in the fireplace. He smiled at their hostess. "Thank you for your hospitality, Mrs. Beaver."

"It's no trouble, dearie," Mrs. Beaver answered.

"Lucy and Peter went to visit Mr. Tumnus today," Edmund explained. "They were to return earlier this afternoon, but no one has seen them. Peter's horse came home, rider less, and the stable hand said that Lucy's had been there as well before she spooked."

"We came to look for Peter and Lucy," Susan added.

"I haven't seen them," Mr. Beaver spoke up. "Haven't heard anything from anyone, in fact. Robin would have spotted them and informed us if something was wrong."

Edmund nodded. "I don't know where they would have gone without their horses though."

"Did anyone ask Mr. Tumnus?" Susan suggested.

"I'll go right now," Mr. Beaver offered.

"Beaver! You wait until tomorrow," commanded Mrs. Beaver. "You might get lost. We don't want to have to come looking for you too."

"Mrs. Beaver speaks wisely," Susan agreed.

"It's getting late," Mrs. Beaver noted. "I'm sorry that I cannot offer you a suitable resting place, but I'll see what blankets I have."

"Thank you," Edmund answered. "We will be happy with anything." Mrs. Beaver disappeared into the loft and several minutes later returned with thick blankets which Edmund helped her spread on the floor. Satisfied that their guests would be comfortable for the night, Mr. and Mrs. Beaver retired to their room leaving Susan and Edmund near the fire. Susan wrapped herself in one of the blankets and, despite her concerns for Peter and Lucy, quickly fell asleep. Edmund was not so fortunate.

He lay with one arm tucked under his head for a pillow, his feet stretched towards the fire. He could hear Susan's steady breathing beside him. The firelight flickered in the small room. He could vaguely hear Mr. Beaver snoring in the other room. But Edmund couldn't sleep. His thoughts danced and swirled forcing sleep to remain barely out of grasp. He wondered where Peter and Lucy were. He wondered if any of the scouts had found them or discovered traces of them.

Edmund sat up and moved to a nearby chair, giving up hope of sleep. He stared into the depths of glowing flames flickering on the hearth. He sighed deeply and rubbed at his eyes. He felt so tired but sleep refused to let him hide in its shadows. His thoughts continually returned to his brother and sister. He didn't know what to do. He didn't know what would happen if Peter and Lucy weren't found. He knew that they had to be somewhere but he was unsure how to find them.

Edmund picked up his boots which were drying by the fire and tugged them on. He hung his sword firmly from his belt before taking his cloak and settling it around his shoulders and moving towards the door. He left no note because he planned to return before daybreak.

Edmund slipped through the door, closing it soundly behind him. First he checked on the horses. His Tiger bodyguard was sitting beside the two horses and did not question him when he approached. Edmund patted his horse's flank and made sure the reigns were still tied fast. He snuck a look back at the lodge but no one was stirring.

Edmund nodded to the bodyguard and struck out into the woods. He seemed to be alone yet he knew that the Tiger was slinking along in the shadows a short distance behind him. Edmund pulled his cloak tighter around him in the miserable weather. He was reminded of the last time he had snuck out of the Beavers' quiet house. He had been guilty and nervous as he fled to the Witch's castle. But now he was redeemed. He was blameless in the sight of the Great Lion.

Edmund glanced around at the blowing trees. It wasn't far to Tumnus's cave now. But Edmund did not turn to follow the path to the faun's humble abode. Instead the thoughts of the Witch and that night long ago drove him to continue ahead, searching for a place that he could only barely remember. He hoped that perhaps it would shed a sliver of light on the disappearance of his siblings.

He could see the flame flickering through the forest long before he ever reached the shadowy clearing. He slowly approached the tree of iron standing resolute after all these years. It was the steadfast guardian of the door to his own world. Edmund scanned the ground and found the fairly recent tracks. There were two distinct boot prints where Peter had slid off his horse. There were softer prints near the lamppost which Edmund identified as his younger sister's. Then he turned and followed the prints in the direction of the wardrobe. Every step brought him closer, and with every step new apprehension filled his soul.

He looked over his shoulder to see his bodyguard still trailing after him. Edmund took a deep breath and plunged into the thick trees. The light from the lamppost stretched into the thickets in front of him and illuminated his path; the path home. But it wasn't home anymore. Narnia was home now.

The branches began to give way as Edmund pushed further in and discovered fur coats. He glanced over his shoulder again and could see the top of the lamppost beckoning him to return. He sighed. He knew he couldn't leave Susan behind but he wanted to know if Peter and Lucy had fallen back to England. Just one peek, he finally decided and stepped forward. He could feel the wood floor under his feet and he stretched his hand out in front of him, feeling for the door.

* * *

**Author's note:** Well, I'm leaving you with another wardrobe-related scene. :) But don't worry about Edmund too much. I mean, how much trouble can he really get into? Seriously? See you soon with another chapter!


	3. Words to Speak

**Author's note:** Well, I like the first part of this chapter, but I don't like the second scene very much. It was hard to write and I'm sorry if it isn't as good as the rest of my writing. I had difficulty writing Susan's response and then Edmund's slow reaction as it finally settles in. So it is kind of rough but I hope you find it endurable.

* * *

**Chapter 3 – Words to Speak**

_He could feel the wood floor under his feet and he stretched his hand out in front of him, feeling for the door._

Edmund's hand connected with wood and he pushed. But the door refused to budge. He tried again and pushed harder but the door denied relenting.

"It is not yet your time, King of Narnia," said a Voice. Edmund spun around.

"Aslan?" he called.

"King Edmund! Are you alright?" asked his bodyguard.

"Um, yes," Edmund answered. He turned back to the door and lightly knocked. "Peter? Peter, can you hear me?" But there was no answer. Edmund pounded louder. "Peter! Lucy! Open the door!"

"Return to your sister," commanded the same Voice from before. "Your time of departure has not yet come."

Edmund let his hand fall from the door and took a reluctant step back. He was almost sure that Peter and Lucy had fallen through the door back to England. But how would he break it to Susan? Did she remember clearly the lamppost and the wardrobe? Edmund took another step back and nearly tripped on something lying on the floor. He frowned and stooped down to pick it up.

It was Peter's crown.

Now all his thoughts were confirmed. His siblings had returned without him and now he could not rejoin them. But was Lucy's crown there as well? He began to feel the floor with his hands, desperately searching for the circle of silver leaves. His fingers came in contact with the familiar shape and he lifted it to his face. The light from the lamppost shone across the fine silver leaves.

"You are gone," Edmund said at last. "You have left Susan and me with a heavy burden to bear. I do not know how we will be able to rule Narnia without your strength, Peter, or without your faith, Lucy." His fingers curled tightly around the two crowns and he tried not to think of his siblings trapped on the other side of the door. He knew they would be desperately trying to return. Perhaps they had been pounding on the wood just like he had only moments before.

The deep voice of the Tiger shattered his brooding thoughts. "Did you find anything, King Edmund?"

"Yes," Edmund answered as he retreated from the gateway to his own world, turning his back upon the closed door and clutching the crowns of his siblings tightly in both hands.

* * *

"Oh, Edmund! There you are! I was afraid that you had disappeared as well," Susan confessed as she came flying out the door to meet him. "Why, Edmund! Why is your face so grave? Did they find anything?"

"Indeed," Edmund answered.

"And where have you been?" she asked. "You disappeared in the middle of the night. It was like – well, never mind. What did you find?" Edmund wordlessly handed her the two crowns. Susan took them and let out a strangled sob. "Oh, Edmund! Where are they? What has happened?"

"Susan, can you recall a strange iron tree in the middle of the forest?" Edmund asked.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Susan demanded.

"Do you have any memories of our world?" Edmund inquired.

"They are faint," Susan confessed. "All I can remember is a spare room that was empty except for a wardrobe. And I remember that we were in the middle of a war and that's why we were separated from our parents. Aside from that, all I can remember is finding ourselves here and discovering Mr. Tumnus's cave torn apart."

"It's the wardrobe that you need to remember," Edmund said quietly. "Susan, I believe that Peter and Lucy have returned to our world."

Susan let out a gasp. "They have left Narnia?"

"Yes," Edmund replied miserably. "But we are going to have to be strong for Narnia, Susan. We have to square our shoulders and lead our country on."

"They are gone," Susan murmured to herself in shock. "Gone."

"Susan, look at me," Edmund commanded. Susan looked up to meet her brother's dark eyes, a tear slowly tracing its way down her cheek. "We must be strong for Narnia right now, Susan. We have to put aside our emotions for our country."

"Edmund, how can you be so unfeeling?" Susan demanded as she took a step away. "Will you not allow me any time to mourn them?"

Edmund reached his hand towards her. "Please, Susan. I didn't mean it like that. We are desperately trying to avoid a war with Telmar and if they find one spot of weakness they will press their advantage until we fall."

Susan ignored his extended hand and his offered condolence. "Can't you understand how I feel, Edmund?" she begged. "Oh, I just want to follow them through the wardrobe."

"We can't," Edmund replied. Susan looked at him in surprise. "I've already tried," he admitted.

"Edmund!" Susan exclaimed in horror. "You would leave me here alone? You yourself said we were spiraling towards a war. You would leave me to sort everything out?"

"Susan, I-"

She slapped his hand that was still extended towards her. "You are a bigger coward than I thought, King Edmund the Just," she mocked as she turned away.

"Susan! Where are you going?" Edmund cried in surprise.

She whirled around and fixed him with steady eyes. "I'll stay with the Beavers until you uncover some sense in your thick head!"

"Susan," Edmund pleaded.

"Go," she commanded. "Perhaps this separation will do us both some good." She stormed back to the Beavers' lodge and slammed the door after her.

Edmund just stood in the same place, staring after her. She hadn't let him finish what he was going to say. It wouldn't have made a difference though. He knew that when she was truly was upset she often lashed out in anger at her siblings.

Edmund hadn't meant to seem unfeeling. But in the shock of the disappearances, he hadn't had time to think about what he felt. He just moved mechanically and did what duty propelled him to do. He ran a hand through his already messy hair. As he did so, he realized what he was doing. He didn't remember picking up on Peter's similar habit. And with that thought came a sharp pang.

His brother. His best friend. His High King.

"What will I do without you, Peter?" Edmund asked. He turned to look at his horse. He knew that he needed to return to Cair Paravel even though he was intimidated by the thought of facing the council alone. But Susan needed time to cope and he was sure she would be safe under Mrs. Beaver's mothering eye. Edmund spoke briefly to the two bodyguards lurking in the shadows before he mounted his horse. One followed him as he spurred his horse forward; the other remained behind to watch over Susan.

Edmund gave no thought to the path he chose. He simply tried to think of how he could explain everything to the lords who would be gathered for the council meeting. And then his thoughts turned back to the subject of Telmar.

* * *

Susan gave a sob as she slammed the door behind her. Mrs. Beaver looked up abruptly. Susan sank to the floor and buried her face in her hands. Abandoning the breakfast dishes, Mrs. Beaver quickly dried her wet paws on her apron and hurried over to the crying queen.

"What's wrong, dearie?" she asked.

"Everything," Susan sobbed.

"Everything can't be wrong," Mrs. Beaver reminded.

"Well, it feels like that!" Susan exclaimed. "Peter and Lucy are gone. Edmund and I quarreled. Narnia is on the edge of a possible war. It's just all wrong!"

"Perhaps you are looking at it in the wrong way," Mrs. Beaver suggested. "There is a reason for everything."

"Is there a reason for Aslan to take my siblings from me?" Susan asked bitterly. "It's just not possible. Yes, I know He only wants good for us, but how could this possibly be good? What could He do through this?"

Mrs. Beaver smiled. "So many questions, dearie. You never understand in the beginning, but when you look back everything makes sense. When you first came to Narnia, do you remember how reluctant you were to accept the prophecy?"

"Is seems so long ago," Susan answered. "But yes, I do remember. And now we understand that we really were the ones to fulfill the prophecy."

Mrs. Beaver nodded. "Someday you will look back on this and the pieces will fit together."

"Thank you," Susan said sincerely and suddenly threw her arms around the startled Beaver. "Thank you for all that you've done for us throughout the years."

"It has been my honor, my queen," Mrs. Beaver replied with a smile. "An honor and a privilege."

* * *

Edmund stood in front of the humming council members who were seated on various chairs around the long table. (Except for the few centaurs. They preferred to stand). There were twenty in all. Lord Peridan was seated to Edmund's left and gave him an encouraging smile as Edmund stood up to address them. Edmund returned the smile but it faded when he saw the two empty chairs to his right and the empty place at the head of the table. Two should have been filled by his gentle, laughing sisters. The last one was where the High King should have been seated.

All the eyes of the lords gathered gazed at him and Edmund felt the words he had desperately practiced slipping quickly away. He opened his mouth but closed it again. He took a breath to steady himself. He was a king. Since when had he been afraid of the council? He opened his mouth again and this time found words to speak.

"I'm afraid that I must be the bearer of sad news," Edmund began with a hint of nervousness. There were a few whispers and Edmund waited for them to cease before continuing. "Two days ago, my royal brother and sister, the High King Peter and Queen Lucy, went missing. They were last seen in Lantern Waste and we scoured the entire forest before I remembered something important. You have all heard the story of how we came from another world and defeated the Witch. I followed my siblings' tracks to the portal through which we originally arrived in Narnia. It is my belief that they have returned to our world."

"They have abandoned us?" cried one member.

"No!" Edmund exclaimed. "They would never do that. They have not abandoned us. I think they were drawn there by magic, whether good or foul, and returned to our world unwillingly. I know that they love Narnia just as much as every one of you sitting before me. They would never abandon our country."

"But with the Telmarines threatening our boarder, will they use this opportunity to work against us?" asked one lord.

"That is what I am worried about," Edmund admitted. "When they learn that the High King is gone, they will press their advantage. They will use our weakness against us until they succeed. But we must not give in. They will never set foot in our Narnia." Edmund paused. "I am not King Peter. I cannot give inspiring speeches like he can. I cannot lead you to war like he can. But I will not let our country fall because he is absent. I will do my best to carry his responsibilities and burdens with the strength Aslan sees fit to grant me with." With that, Edmund sat down again and bowed his head.

"Well done, King Edmund!" Lord Peridan cried. As Edmund lifted his head, he was astounded by the number of lords nodding in agreement. An enormous amount of relief swept over him and he thanked Aslan for giving him the words to speak.

* * *

**Author's note: **Well, there you go. I'm posting this in haste since I must leave for the evening in about five minutes. I have not double checked all of this, but I think it is pretty much completed. Hope you liked it! See you with the next chapter sometime this week!

Oh, p.s. I am posting another short story (companion piece to this one) which is an alternate ending for Edmund trying to go through the wardrobe. It is definately humorous and nonsense. You have been warned! Read at your own risk! :)


	4. Ready or Not

**Author's note:** Here is Chapter 4 at last. It took me a while to write because it is pretty intense towards the end. And we get a look at Susan as well. Hope you like it!

* * *

**Chapter 4 – Ready or Not**

Susan emerged from the deep forest and her horse broke into a canter. The fresh spring breeze tossed her dark hair as she rode. She could see the gleaming white towers of the castle ahead. A Wolf bodyguard loped along behind her. Three flags flew above the castle. One was the green and red lion standard of Narnia, followed by the dark blue and silver eagle belonging to Edmund. Her own standard fluttered in the breeze beside her brother's. It was forest green with her ivory horn stitched in silver. Susan mourned for her absent siblings and knew she would never see the golden griffin and silver phoenix flying over the castle again.

Below the flags, on a lower tower, she could make out a figure. She could see his dark hair ruffled in the wind. He raised his hand in greeting, but she did not return it. It had been three days since she had seen him and she wondered about all that had gone on in her absence. He had sent for her and she wondered if he was ready to apologize. It never crossed her mind that perhaps she had been the one in the wrong.

She urged her horse into a gallop and was soon flying up the green slope to the city. She slowed her pace when she reached the city and smiled cheerfully at her subjects who stopped to wave at her as she passed. Soon the massive gates of the castle loomed up before her and they opened as she approached. When she reached the stables, she slid off her mare and handed the reins to the stableman who appeared quickly.

Susan smoothed the wrinkled skirt of her light brown riding habit as she approached the double doors leading into the castle. She ran her fingers through her loose, windblown hair, trying to suppress the long waves cascading over her shoulders. She forced herself to smile as the doors opened and she stepped into the marble hall filled with ladies-in-waiting and various courtiers expecting her.

Susan greeted all her friends. She asked after their families and spoke politely to all. But she was relieved when she reached the end of the line. Edmund stood waiting for her. She noticed that he looked paler than usual.

"Sister." He greeted her formally and kissed her hand.

"My lord," she responded in the same fashion and dropped a quick curtsy.

"No doubt you are tired after your ride," Edmund assumed.

"Naturally," Susan answered.

"Then I shall escort you to your chamber." Edmund offered his arm, which she took and they glided down the hall. They said nothing as they passed countless doors. They at last approached Susan's room. Susan desperately wanted to say something to break the awful silence. The lack of color in Edmund's face informed her that something was very wrong, but she couldn't summon enough courage to speak to him. Edmund opened the door for her and she opened her mouth to speak.

"Thank you," she said as she removed her hand from his arm and stepped into her room. She mentally chided herself for being such a coward. It was only her brother after all!

"Susan," Edmund pleaded. But she wasn't ready to face him yet.

"I am weary, my lord," she answered and closed the door.

* * *

Susan quickly walked down the hall, her scarlet skirt flowing behind her. She had received summons from Edmund to join him in the throne room for a meeting with the council. She paused at a nearby mirror to check her hair before continuing on her way. She glided down the stairs and wondered if this meeting had to do with the reason that Edmund seemed so pale. She crossed the main chamber to the double doors, gilded with gold leaf, and opened them. She stepped inside and Lord Peridan met her with a smile.

"My queen! I trust that you returned safely."

"Indeed, I did," Susan answered as he led her over to the table and pulled out her accustomed chair. She gave him a smile in thanks as she took a seat. He crossed to the other side of the table and sat at Edmund's left. Edmund was leaning his head heavily against his hand and his face was troubled. Three more of the lords came in as they waited in an uneasy silence.

As Edmund struggled to collect his thoughts, Susan let her eyes drift to the two empty seats beside her. For a moment she could still picture her cheerful sister and heroic brother sitting beside her. But then the memory was gone and she was only staring at cold, empty chairs. Susan abruptly stood up, her chair grating harshly across the marble floor and dragging Edmund out of his thoughts. Her hands trembled at her sides and there was conflict in her face. At last she spoke but it was almost to herself.

"I must go."

"Susan!" Edmund called after her as she quickly fled from the room. He leaped up from his seat and dashed after her. He caught her outside the massive doors and took hold of her elbow. "Susan."

"I am indisposed." She refused to look into his eyes.

"Susan," Edmund repeated. "Susan, look at me."

She tore her elbow from his grasp. "Do not follow me, my lord." With that she bolted down the hall, leaving Edmund to stare after her.

"King Edmund."

Edmund turned to see a slim man addressing him. He had shoulder length dark hair and a distinctly Telmarine accent.

"Ambassador Luzan," Edmund answered through gritted teeth. He wondered how long the Telmarine had been lurking in the shadows, watching his sister's emotional flurry.

"Has the council been summoned?" Ambassador Luzan questioned.

"Yes." Edmund forced himself to speak civilly. "Come. We are assembled and will hear what you have to say." Edmund led the way back to the throne room and the doors closed soundly behind them. Edmund took a look over his shoulder once as he wished to speak with Susan, but it was certainly not a convenient time. He took his place – what used to be Peter's – at the head of the table. Ambassador Luzan stood at the other end. Edmund nodded for him to begin.

Ambassador Luzan cleared his throat. "First I must thank you for all the food and supplies Narnia has sent to help us during the famine this past winter. But instead of appeasing our country, it made Telmar restless. The populace is growing impatient. They want better crops. The sailors want better ports with better trade. The lords want better estates. We all want a better life. And Narnia offers all that we seek."

"Your citizens have crossing our boarder for months," Edmund responded. "Some legally, others illegally. We welcome all people here, but Narnia cannot support itself and all these immigrants. My brother, the High King, passed the immigration laws for the safety of our country. Telmarines are welcome but they must come legally."

"My people do not see it this way," Ambassador Luzan replied. "They see their wealthy Narnian neighbors with plenty of food and large expanses of land. They want a share and we believe that riches should be shared among all people."

Edmund frowned.

Lord Peridan rose to his feet. "Haven't we done enough for your country already? In your time of starvation, we have provided food for your people. We have sent teachers for your schools. We have put you back on your feet and you tell us that it has only fueled your desire for our beautiful land? You seek to dominate a free country. The Narnians will never liberally give up their land. This is our home."

"Yes," Edmund agreed as he found his voice. "Where will the Narnians go, if Telmar seizes their lands? How will we live? We cannot go to Telmar. We have no use for the resources there and we do not know how to use them. What will become of Narnia? Will your people respect the dryads and their trees, or shall they be mercilessly cut down? What about the naiads? Will you change the course of their rivers? Narnia will not give itself away so freely."

"My king, Caspian the First, is well aware of that," Ambassador Luzan answered. "So your country shall go down in darkness. We will have Narnia. But to prevent the unnecessary shedding of blood, King Caspian is prepared to offer you an irresistible bargain."

"You think that I will just sell away my country!" exclaimed Edmund in horror.

"Of course not," Ambassador Luzan replied slyly. "But every king must think of his people and what is best for them." Edmund hesitated as the ambassador watched him closely. "Every king must also think of himself. This could be your chance to escape from this sinking kingdom. Now I've only heard fragments of the story – a missing sister, deserted High King, empty treasury – but from my understand, your country is going under. This is your chance to escape from all the problems and responsibilities."

"Our High King did not abandon us!" Edmund exclaimed, leaping to the defense of his brother. "And who said that our treasury was lacking? I think you are assuming more than you know, Ambassador Luzan. I will not abandon my country. Aslan has given me kingship and I shall use it to protect my subjects and friends."

"But if you do not agree," Ambassador Luzan continued as if Edmund hadn't said anything, "we will have no choice but to declare war on you. None of your people shall be spared. They shall be wiped out and you and your siblings shall be put to the sword. It would be a shame to see the pretty face of the eldest queen so lifeless," he sneered.

It was in a moment like this that Edmund realized he was not Peter, even in part. Peter would know what to do. His elder brother would be so sure of their victory. And they would win. But Edmund was afraid. He was afraid that he was making a terrible mistake and he was terrified of harming his people. He desperately wanted Peter's courage and confidence.

"Think wisely, O Just King," reminded the ambassador. "Your decision will affect your entire country."

And Edmund knew that so well. He did not want to agree. He knew that Narnia would rather fight to the last. Surrender was not an option. But he was afraid that he could not lead her to victory. It wasn't that he doubted his skills as a warrior, but he doubted that he could lead the entirety of Narnia's strength to battle. What if they failed? He would be to blame and Narnia would be subjected to a conqueror's ruthless domination.

Lord Peridan could sense his king's helplessness. He rose to his feet and addressed the ambassador. "Will you kindly withdraw so that we may discuss this amongst ourselves?"

"Yes, of course, my lord," Ambassador Luzan answered. He bowed and left the room.

Lord Peridan placed a hand on Edmund's shoulder. "Those who seek the Lion find new strength," he whispered. Edmund smiled gratefully.

"Of all the indignities that Telmar could subject us to!" exclaimed one lord farther down the table. "They just assume that we will go along with their schemes because we are a peaceful nation."

"What of our families and land?" another asked. "Will they try to take those from us if we agree?"

"Narnia suffered under the Witch's rule for one hundred years," Lord Peridan commented. "Many of our ancestors were torn away from their homes and fled to Archenland. Now that the Witch has been defeat, we the descendants, have returned to rebuild our lives and the legacy of those who were before us. We have worked diligently for nearly fifteen years. We are not ready to give up our freedom! And we will not do that willingly!"

"I would rather fight in a doomed war than sell away everything we believe in," a lord sitting to Edmund's far right announced boldly.

"Then I have your answer?" Edmund asked.

The lord nodded. "Lord Peridan speaks what echoes in all our minds. There is no surrender. We will not freely give our country away. Even if they burn our estates and take our families away in chains, we will fight. And we shall fight to the last."

Edmund nodded. "Then war it shall be." He looked to the door and nodded to the courtier standing erect beside it. "Let Ambassador Luzan return. Our answer is prepared." The courtier hurried to open the door and Ambassador Luzan entered, looking a little smug as if he guessed what their answer would be.

Edmund knew what he must answer and though he had hesitated at first, he suddenly felt sure of it. His hand clenched at his side and he felt the muscles in his jaw tighten. "Never." He told the ambassador. "We will not surrender."

Ambassador Luzan paused but then continued, still undaunted, "King Caspian knew you would shun his offer, but I will let you look it over before you come to your final conclusion." He produced a scroll and held it out.

"We have made our decision, Ambassador Luzan," Edmund repeated. "Good day, sir. You are free to leave on the first ship bound for Telmar." Lord Peridan stood up to escort the man out.

Ambassador Luzan looked back over his shoulder at Edmund with gleaming eyes. "We are coming, King Edmund, whether you are ready or not."

* * *

**Author's note: **My sister and I have dubbed Ambassador Luzan, 'Lasagna boy'. :)

Things are looking pretty bad for Narnia. Were the Telmarines' motives believable? I remember that the invasion had something to do with a famine in Telmar. Did it make sense? And I'm sorry that Susan and Edmund haven't made up yet. (Poor Ed. She shut the door in his face!) That was going to happen in this chapter, but Lasagna boy took up more pages than I had planned. So in the next chapter, I have something cute planned. I think you will like it. :) Until then, the Lion's Blessings!

P.S. I'm running a poll on my profile regarding "Born For This". Check it out and vote please!


	5. First Blood

**Author's note:** So here is Chapter 5 at last. It took me a while to write, sorry. It was difficult. :) Susan wasn't cooperating and Edmund wasn't helping anything. But at least it is done!

My Ancient Narnian in this chapter is a mixture of Elven (even though there are no elves) and the ancient Celtic language. On a side note: Ancient Narnian is different from Old Narnian.

Enjoy the chapter!

**Edit 2/5/13: **With a wonderful suggestion from my writing teacher, I completely overhauled the beginning of this chapter. It makes a lot more sense with future events. I also rearranged events in Chapter 6 and made a few minor dialogue changes.

* * *

**Chapter 5 – First Blood**

Susan sank gracefully onto the settee beside the massive fireplace. She wanted to cry. But she couldn't. It was an empty, confused feeling. She lifted her gaze to the brilliant tapestry hanging over the marble fireplace. It was a Lion; but not a terrible, snarling lion. This Lion was good and gentle, though he was not tame.

A few hot tears slowly trailed down her cheeks, but she did not lift her hand to wipe them away. She knew it was alright to let her façade drop in the private of her room, seen only by the merciful eyes of Aslan.

Looking upon His majestic face, scarcely done justice by the tapestry, brought a much desired calm to her spirit. She wiped the tears from the corners of her eyes. Susan took a deep breath to steady herself. She wasn't afraid, she told herself. Now that she had calmed her wild emotions, she was ready to return to the council meeting. She brushed her hair back from her damp cheeks and tucked it behind her ears. She used her handkerchief to erase the telltale signs of tears.

Susan rose to her feet, squaring her shoulders and smoothing the scarlet material of her skirt. With determination, she strode forward to face the future. She opened the door and stepped into the hall. It was not empty and when greeted by a friendly Hedgehog dusting a suit of armor, she managed to smile for the first time that day.

Continuing down the hall and into the main area, she could see the entrance to the throne room ahead of her. She quickened her pace, and Susan pushed the wide doors open with a burst of energy.

She scanned the empty room and frowned. Surely the council meeting couldn't be finished so soon. "Edmund?" Her hands fell to her sides as she approached the vacant table in the center of the room. She glanced around, her gaze straying to elaborate tapestries hanging from sturdy fixtures in the walls.

Susan's eyes returned to the table as she noted a single scroll, its seal unbroken, resting there. Curiosity won her over and she picked it up, examining the edges and the seal. The seal of King Caspian of Telmar, she noted. She debated whether or not to open it. She made up her mind and returned it to the table, turning on her heel to quickly advance from the room.

But as she walked, she cast a final look over her shoulder at the innocent parchment. She sighed and returned to the table, snatching up the scroll and smoothly sliding her nimble fingers under the seal. The seal crumbled and she knew couldn't change her mind now. She began to read silently, her eyes scanning the unfamiliar handwriting of a Telmarine scribe.

_Caspian, son of Caspa, by conquest, King over the city-states of Telmar, Lord of the High Council and Prince of the Far Reaching Lands, Knight of the Noble Order of the Guardaura, to Edmund, called the Just, King of Narnia, Duke of Lantern Waste and Count of the Western March, Knight of the Noble Order of the Table, Greetings._

_For to prevent the abhominable effusion of blood…_ Effusion of blood? Susan tore her eyes away from the paper, reminding herself that she was snooping and probably reading something that was not meant for her to read.

She tried to place the scroll on the table again, but she couldn't. She began to read again, taking in the shocking declaration requesting total surrender or vicious war. Susan was horrified. This haughty king expected that her noble brother would simply hand over his kingdom that he had laboured so many years for?

But as she read over the full conditions of surrender or war, she hesitated. Of course she didn't want to give up Narnia. But wouldn't it be better for her people to willingly submit? If they failed in their rebellion, would the Telmarines ruthlessly slaughter them, giving no regard to age or gender?

_We have sent this contract by the hand of our trusted ambassador, Luzan de Arfoni, to whom we have explained the full conditions of surrender or war to present to your Majesty._

_With the consent of the council gathered here, this decree is hereby put forth by Caspian the First of that name, on the third day of the fifth month in the seventh year of our reign. _

_Caspian, son of Caspa, King of Telmar _

Susan resisted the strong urge to crumple the parchment in her shaking hands. The words 'surrender' and 'complete desolation' pounded in her frightened mind.

"Susan?" Edmund called. "Susan, where are you?" She spun around, tucking the scroll behind her as the doors opened and the glimmering sun streamed through, blinding her for a moment until her eyes adjusted. "Susan?" Edmund quickly crossed the room to her. "I came for you after the council meeting was over, but you weren't in your room. Are you alright?"

She avoided his question and held out the scroll instead. "Is this what the council was discussing?"

He refused to look at the contents of the scroll. "Yes," he answered. "Ambassador Luzan was kind enough to inform us of King Caspian's decision to invade Narnia."

"What has the council decided?" Susan questioned.

"War." There was no trace of hesitance in Edmund's voice. He was frank and honest with her.

"Was that what you would have chosen?" wondered Susan as her eyes flickered to the scroll clutched tightly in her hand.

"Do you think I would have it any other way?" He watched her carefully as he wondered if she could have ever thought it otherwise.

"Of course not," she answered, brushing a stray strand of hair away from her face.

"Would you have chosen it?" he asked out of curiosity.

Susan hesitated, looking away. "I-I could not say." She turned her face towards him and he could see the turbulence in her eyes as she slowly answered. "What will happen, Edmund, if you fail?"

Edmund sighed reluctantly. "Terrible things will come to pass, if we fail."

"If Peter was here we would be sure of victory," she muttered.

Edmund's heart sank, her words echoing his deepest thoughts. Susan glanced up and he could tell that she couldn't see the uncertainty he felt. He forced himself to speak confidently for her sake. "Susan, I don't know if we shall stand or fall, but I suppose we must trust Aslan."

"But what if He doesn't come to help us this time?" Susan questioned.

"He never abandons His Chosen Ones, Su," Edmund reminded, remembering all the lessons he had learn during his years since coming to Narnia. "He may not be tame and we shall never fully understand His plans, but in the end, everything will work together for His Glory. We must praise Him in the times of plenty and in the times of hardship." But it was one thing for him to say the familiar phrases. It was another to believe it and put it into practice. He smiled at her encouragingly, hiding away his gnawing doubts. "It's nearly time for the afternoon court session to begin. Lord Peridan is waiting for us."

* * *

"We cannot work out a compromise, my king," explained the Ferret. "The Water Snake will not agree to my terms."

"And he will not take my sssuggestions into consssideration!" protested the Water Snake.

"Peace!" Edmund commanded, trying his hardest not to sound irritated.

"Why should I give up my right for his desires?" the Ferret demanded.

Susan tried very hard to continue to focus on the disagreement laid before them, but she had lost interest.

"Can we not summon them to return tomorrow?" Susan whispered to Edmund.

"Certainly, but what ails you, sister?" Edmund asked. The Ferret ceased chattering when he noticed the royals whispering between them.

"I am fine," Susan responded. "But this wearies me." She had no patience to spare on trivial arguments when their country was preparing to fight to the death for its freedom.

"Patience, sister," Edmund urged. "I think I have reached my decision." But before Edmund could stand to announce his resolution, the doors at the end of the hall burst open and a Wolf limped in. There were dark stains in his matted fur and his eyes held avid pain and sorrow. A gash above his right foreleg oozed a sickly red. At first the previous occupants of the room were too astonished to speak, but Susan quickly recovered herself and set a courtier to fetch a healer and some bandages.

"What foul news do you bring, brave messenger?" questioned Edmund.

"Please, my king," the Wolf panted. "Forgive me for bringing such evil tidings."

"Speak of this hideous crime. We hold no resentment against you. Nay, we applaud you for your bravery," Edmund answered.

"Thank you, my king." The Wolf bowed low. "It is with much remorse that I present this offence that has been done against our country." He paused and Edmund watched him expectantly. Susan waited in the growing quiet for him to speak. The Wolf raised his head and began his tale. "There was much blood spilled yesterday evening. Eredh, the outpost closest to the Pass of Telmar, was ambushed in the dark hours before dawn. My mate and I could hear the fighting and see the leaping flames from our den, nearly five lion's leaps away." The Wolf shuddered as he remembered the darkness being licked up by the tongues of flame erupting from the burning outpost. "I sent my mate and our five pups to our little village to warn them and seek shelter. My brother and I ran to discover what had befallen the regiment at the outpost. When we arrived, there was nothing left but ashes and bodies. No one was spared. Telmarine arrows protruded from most of those who lay there."

The sorrow that filled the Wolf's eyes pierced through Susan and she unconsciously shivered. She grasped the arm of her chair tightly.

"Are you sure they were Telmarine arrows?" Lord Peridan questioned.

"As sure as King Edmund is king," the Wolf answered. "They were black feathered. There was also a shield, though I regret that I was unable to bring it. But it had the Black Raven of Telmar upon it."

Edmund nodded in silent thought.

"But there is still more," added the Wolf. "We followed the soldiers. From their scents it was probably a raiding party of about five and thirty soldiers. A much greater body than the garrison at Eredh. I followed them to our village. With the outpost destroyed, there was no one to protect us. The village was sleeping soundly. But soon screams echoed from the houses and blood ran in the streets. We did our best to protect our families, but soon the malicious soldiers had cut down the fathers and sons. I believe that a few women and children escaped, but most were slaughtered. My own brother died beside me. It was only the providence of the Lion that allowed me to escape and bring the news to you, my king. That is all." He gave as low of a bow as he could manage with his injured leg.

Several moments of silence passed as images of the night's destruction flashed through Edmund's mind. His fist clenched at his side and fire glinted in his eyes. War was fought between armies not waged on innocent country folk. Only cowards murdered women and children in the dark.

"What of your family, brave Wolf?" Susan asked, her heart stirred to pity. "Were they able to escape?"

"I-I do not know, my queen," he answered sadly. "I pray that Aslan has spared them."

"That is my prayer for you as well," agreed Susan.

Edmund slowly rose to his feet. His face was pale and Susan couldn't read any emotion in it. But his eyes still reflected the fire burning deep within his chest. "We did not ask for war. Instead, we were forced into it because we will not surrender our freedom. I thought that perhaps we could resolve this, but the Telmarines show that they will not easily be reconciled. This is not a war that I want to fight, but I will not stand by while my people are slaughtered in their homes." He was silent for a moment before adding strongly, "This is war." If there had been any possible thought of surrender in his mind, it could no longer survive.

* * *

His sword slid out of its sheath with a soft hiss of metal. Edmund raised it so it was held upright, parallel to his nose. His dark eyes narrowed at the shadowy figure several paces away and he wished that the moon would appear from behind the thick clouds. He moved swiftly; his feet gliding over the rough cobblestones. He couldn't miss a beat or the entire rhythm of the attack would be off. He knew each movement by heart. Countless times he and Peter had practiced this routine under the hawk eye of Oreius the Centaur.

In a startling motion, Edmund flew at the fighting dummy standing listless several steps away. He thrust upwards with his sword, before ducking under the flailing arm of his apathetic opponent. He slashed his sword across the back of the dummy and a clump straw fell out. Edmund gave a low grumble of frustration and whirled around for another clash. He twisted around and his sword locked with his opponent's. Now it was a competition of strength.

Edmund clenched his jaw and held his sword steady. He would not be the one to lose. Then he suddenly pulled his blade back, raised it over his head and swung while the opponent was still off balance. Clashing metal met his ears and he smiled. It always worked to disarm Prince Corin. But it didn't work on his brother.

Edmund ducked, twisting the swords against each other and pushing against the dummy which retaliated and whirled around to strike his ear. Edmund growled a little and rubbed at his injury before swinging his sword again. It locked against the other blade.

"_Still trying to master that trick, Ed?"_

"Still think you can do better, Peter?" Edmund asked with a smirk. He darted away, expecting the counter attack from the invisible blade of his absent brother. When none came, he realized that he had simply imagined it. He sighed in frustration and threw his sword to the ground. The courtyard echoed with the clattering. Panting in exhaustion, he sunk to the ground and, seizing his water skin, drank great mouthfuls of water. He wiped the sweat across his forehead which felt clammy in the cool night air.

He stared out into the dark and now silent training court. It felt good to stretch his muscles again. He had been too stiff from all the council meetings and court sessions. He rolled his shoulders back, wincing when an old injury stabbed at him. He closed his mind against the memories that came with the injury. It held too many images of his brother.

"If only you fought with that amount of resilience in every training session." A voice broke through his thoughts.

"Oreius!" Edmund leapt to his feet and stood very rigid in front of the centaur.

"I am not here to drill you, King Edmund," Oreius announced. "I am here because you need a friend."

Edmund gave a faint smile. "Thank you, Oreius. But I'm fine."

Oreius crossed his arms and looked down at the young man in front of him. "There are a great number of responsibilities on your mind."

"How are you able to see right through me every time?" Edmund asked.

"I am a centaur. It is one of our gifts."

"Just like it is a gift that you have two stomachs and can eat twice as much as Peter and I," Edmund remarked.

"You miss your brother very much."

"Yes." Edmund sighed, as he dragged the toe of his boot through the dirt, creating little dust clouds. "I can't help but feel a little lost without him leading."

Oreius pointed upwards to the stars that were beginning to show as the clouds drifted away. "Can you see Lord Elon?"

"Yes," Edmund answered as he squinted at the twinkling shapes.

"And to his right, Lady Oreleth?"

"Yes."

"And their children descend from them across the sky. Do you not see the shape they make?" Oreius questioned.

Edmund shook his head.

"Follow my finger," Oreius instructed as he traced the stars. "Now do you see what they make?"

"I-it's a Lion." Edmund said at last. "And a crown is upon his head."

"How many points are on the crown?"

"Four." Edmund slowly began to understand what Oreius was showing him. "Elon, the Lord of Mercy, and Oreleth, the Lady of Beauty, as well as two others. What are the names of the other two?"

"You have learned your astronomy lessons well, King Edmund," Oreius commented before answering Edmund's question. "The other two are Eleth, the Lady of Joy, and Piaras, the Golden Lord of Strength."

"Piaras." His voice wavered as he whispered, "Ancient Narnian for Peter."

"Though you have never been told it, this is where the prophecy began," Oreius explained. "It started with the four points of the Lion's crown. The stars have always told of the time when two Sons of Adam and two Daughters of Eve would rule Narnia in the name of Aslan."

"They'll always be there, won't they?" Edmund asked. "Even when we are no longer alive?"

"Until the stars rain down from the heavens and Aslan calls them home, they shall always shine to point those who will listen to the Lion," Oreius answered.

"Thank you for showing this to me, Oreius." Edmund smiled up at the large centaur.

"It was my pleasure, my king," Oreius replied and he let a sliver of a smile cross his face as well.

* * *

**Author's note: **Thanks for all the reviews! I have enjoyed reading them so much!


	6. Call to Arms

**Author's note: **I watched iTerebithia's Narnia video, "Time To Go To War" over and over as I wrote this. The song was just perfect and her video editing is amazing, so I suggest that you watch it! It's on youtube. So…this is the chapter you have been anxiously awaiting! Yay! If you recognize the pendant, it is from my short story, "The Proof of His Love" and is a reference to WillowDryad's story, "Refined by Fire."

**Edit 2/5/13:** I rearranged events in this chapter to fit with edits made to Chapter 5. There are also a few minor dialogue changes.

* * *

**Chapter 6 – Call to Arms**

Edmund returned his quill pen to the ink bottle and sprinkled sand across the wet ink so it would dry. He poured the extra sand off and folded it carefully. He rose to his feet and carried the letter out of the room.

"Have you seen my sister?" Edmund asked the leopard on guard outside the door to his study.

"I believe that she is in the garden, your majesty," he answered.

"Thank you." Edmund flashed a smile before continuing on his way down the bright hallway. He walked quickly, scarcely taking in the rich tapestries decorating the hall. He barely spared a glance at the one portraying King Gale slaying a dragon in the Lone Islands. However, he did stop to stare at the rich embroidery depicting the Wolf Maugrim leaping at Peter's throat as the young boy thrust his sword into the vicious Wolf's heart.

Edmund hadn't been there. He wished he could have seen Peter's first battle. But he had only heard the stories. After a moment's reflection, he continued on his way. Soon he pushed open the doors and stepped into the sunny garden. He could hear laughter coming from the direction of the fountain.

Edmund hurried along the little rocky path to the sparkling fountain where Susan was surrounded by her friends and ladies in waiting. He hated to disturb them. It was one of the rare times in the last few days that he had heard his sister's laugher echoing through the garden. But the declaration in his hand was important enough for him to shatter the peace.

"Susan."

She looked up and smiled. "Edmund! Have you met Sir Rolf and Lady Emilia's youngest?"

Edmund gave his sister a friendly smile. "I think not." He looked down at the fur ball attacking the laces of his boot.

"Jamin!" Lady Emilia scolded her son. "Don't eat King Edmund's boot laces!" The small kitten stopped chewing on the leather to stare up at Edmund with large, unblinking eyes.

"Hello, little fellow," Edmund greeted as he extended his hand. The kitten darted away in fear and clung to Susan's long skirt.

"Edmund, you scared him!" she laughed. "Jamin, my brother won't hurt you." She bent down to scoop the kitten up but Edmund caught her hand first.

"Susan, I must speak with you," he whispered.

"Very well," she answered as she reseated herself and stroked Jamin's soft fur.

"Alone."

Her eyes pleaded for him to leave her in peace. She didn't want him to be the bearer of more disrupting news. Today she had refused to let all the sadness ruin her preciously few joyful moments. But Edmund only continued to wait for her response. He offered his arm, which she took, even though her touch was hesitant. He led her away from the others and into another section of the garden. He brought her to a little stone bench which she seated herself upon. He handed her the parchment that had been in his hand and turned away as she scanned the contents.

"So it has begun at last," she whispered. "Our forces are to be gathered at Beruna. When do you depart?"

"I ride for Beruna by the end of the week. We leave for the Pass of Telmar within the fortnight, if all is ready," Edmund announced.

"You will not consider the ambassador's offer of surrender?" Susan questioned.

"Of course not." His voice was confident, hiding whatever doubts he had, and she knew better than to try to dissuade him from his plans.

Sadness filled Susan's eyes and she went to him, taking his hand and silently pleading for him to stay. But she knew where his duty lay so she did not press him. Instead she simply nodded and forced a brave smile.

"Susan-" Edmund began.

She cut him off with a shadow of a smile. "I understand, Edmund." Her tone was sincere and it surprised Edmund. "Narnia needs you."

"Narnia needs you too, Susan," Edmund reminded. "I need you, Susan. Should anything happen to me, you will be the one they look to. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Susan answered slowly. "I am neither brave enough nor strong enough to lead them, but I will try my hardest."

"May the Lion guide and protect us," Edmund prayed.

"Yes," whispered Susan, echoing his words silently. Edmund squeezed her hand reassuringly and they began their short walk back to the fountain and their waiting companions. Susan smiled at them, hiding the sadness away. She would miss her brother terribly but she knew that it was a small price to pay for the privilege of freedom.

Edmund excused himself and returned to his study where he finished writing the details of the letter. He sealed it and stamped his signet ring into the hot wax. He called a courtier into the room and handed him the document.

"Have this duplicated. Then let riders take copies to every town throughout Narnia. This is a call to arms. It is time to muster for war." Edmund turned away and whispered, "It has begun."

* * *

Hiding under her long crimson skirt, Susan's bare feet made no noise on the marble steps as she slowly descended into darkness. She carried a torch in her unsteady hand. The other hand clutched a small, cloth bag with golden embroidery. The light of the torch flickered on the walls and she slowly moved forward. Her skirt trailed behind her and she watched her steps with caution. When she reached the bottom, she held her torch up to the wrought iron gates before her. She gently pushed them open and stepped inside. She quickly lit two torches on either side of the archway. She placed her torch in an empty bracket on the wall before making her way to the center of the illuminated room. Along the far wall were four alcoves where four statues stood looking out into the room. In front of the statues were four trunks marked with the initials of each of the four Pevensie siblings. Susan slowly stepped forward and made her way towards the far right to Lucy's chest.

She knelt in front of it and lifted the heavy lid. Susan leaned in and could smell the familiar rose fragrance of her sister. Resting on top of the contents inside was Lucy's healing cordial. Susan traced her finger around the designs on the diamond vial. She set it aside on a small pillow, beside Lucy's first sampler, and pulled out one of the smaller dresses that Lucy had set aside when she outgrew it. Susan held it against her and felt tears coming to her eyes.

"Where are you, Lucy?" she whispered. "I miss you so much." She folded the lilac satin and returned it to the trunk. She reached for the cloth bag sitting beside her. She extracted a crown made of delicate silver leaves and gently set it on the pillow surrounding the healing cordial. "Farewell, Lucy," she whispered and closed the lid. She turned her gaze to the statue of her valiant younger sister. Susan said nothing for a moment and hardly moved as she stared at the familiar likeness.

Wiping away a few stray tears, she rose to her feet. She passed her own chest marked with 'S. P.' and continued to the left to Peter's trunk. Her scarlet skirt pooled out around her as she knelt in front of the golden chest. She stared up at the frozen, marble face gazing out into the room and a tear slowly traced its way down her cheek. She wondered if she would ever see her magnificent older brother again.

She opened the trunk lid and peered into the dark depths that smelled earthy. She was reminded of all the times Peter and Edmund had returned home with grass stained knees and dusty tunics after a rigorous run that Oreius the Centaur had arranged for them. Susan smiled at the memory and brought her thoughts back to the present.

Peter's truck held a considerable less amount of objects than Lucy's had. There was his first suit of armor that he had worn during the Battle of Beruna along with some letters his siblings had sent him when he was away on his first campaign. There were a couple books and important documents, but Susan barely spared these a glance. On a dark blue, velvet cushion rested a golden pendant with the face of a Lion on one side and as Susan turned it over, she noticed three engraved symbols. She remembered that Peter often wore this, but she couldn't remember what the symbols meant. Eventually, Susan gave up and moved the pendant gently aside.

She reached into the cloth satchel at her side and her fingers wrapped around the golden crown that held so much authority. She pulled it out and gazed longingly at the familiar object. Hundreds of moments with her brother floated back to her and overwhelmed her.

"Be brave, Peter," she whispered as she set it with the golden pendant. "Remember the Lion and remember the siblings you left behind." She could say no more and buried her face in her hands as her shoulders rose and fell.

She hadn't noticed any footsteps until they stopped beside her. A warm hand rested on her shoulder in comfort. She lifted her tear-streaked face to gaze at the newcomer and discovered that it was her younger brother.

"I understand," was all that Edmund said as he knelt beside her. And she knew that he meant it.

"Do you miss them?" Susan asked softly.

"Every second of every day," Edmund answered as he stared at the marble likeness of his brother. "There has always been four and now-" He broke off as he blinked rapidly, trying to chase the tears away.

"Why did Aslan let this happen?" Susan asked as she looked up at him.

"I do not know, Susan," Edmund replied slowly. "But I have learned that shaking your fist at Him brings nothing but harm. The best solution is quietly asking for help and trusting that He has a reason for this. And perhaps it is a reason that you will never understand."

"I wish I could have the faith that you have, Ed," Susan said wistfully. "You and Peter and Lucy always seem so sure of Aslan even when you can't see Him."

"Faith without sight doesn't come naturally to all." He gave a half laugh. "I didn't always believe, Susan. It wasn't until I saw the Table and understood what He had sacrificed for me that I truly believed. I still doubt, Susan. I'm not perfect. Neither are Lucy and Peter. You mustn't think for a moment that we always believe. There have been many times when we have ignored His help. But nothing goes right without Him."

"I'm sorry," Susan whispered as she took his hand. "I'm sorry that I called you a traitor and said hurtful things when we were at the Beavers'. Can you forgive me?"

"Susan, you forgave me once for an offense that was far greater," Edmund replied, gently squeezing her hand. "I think I can forgive you for something less trivial."

"Thank you, Ed," Susan answered.

"And now, I have a little surprise for you." Edmund smiled.

"A surprise?" Susan looked wary.

"It's one that you will like," Edmund answered quickly. "Do you remember how before – before things changed, that you wanted Cor, Corin and Aravis to come for a visit?"

"Yes," Susan replied. "But I never sent the invitation because we were busy searching for-" She broke off and the moment passed in silence.

"Well," Edmund explained. "I sent the invitation."

"Edmund!" exclaimed Susan loudly. "When do they arrive?"

"In three days' time."

"Three days? But – but I can't have everything ready by then!" Susan protested.

"I'm sure they won't mind," Edmund replied.

"But, Edmund!" Susan cut herself off. "Alright." She gave a smile. "I won't worry about it too much."

"That's my Su," laughed Edmund. Susan laughed and a smile graced her face. "I've missed that smile," Edmund announced.

"I've missed your laughter," Susan replied. "But Edmund, do you really think it is good for our visitors to come during this time of unrest?"

"I believe that there is some wisdom in what you say," Edmund agreed. "But I don't want you to be here alone."

Susan was silent. At last she said, "I wish that you didn't have to go."

"Freedom often comes at a high price, Susan," Edmund answered. "As king I often must make sacrifices for my country. Being away from home is only one of them." He gave a small smile. "Now, as much as I love being in this room, do you not think it is time for us to return to the world of light?" Edmund asked.

"I believe that you are right," agreed Susan.

"I'm always right," Edmund teased.

"Peter used to say that," Susan remarked and her smile vanished.

"I'm sorry, Su." He put his arm around her shoulders in comfort. "If Aslan wills it, we will see them again. I promise."

"I know we will," Susan answered.

* * *

**Author's note: **So war has begun. Are you happy that Edmund and Susan made up? See if you can guess what will happen next!


	7. Secrets in the Stable

**Author's note: **Well, here is a little fun to lighten the mood a wee bit since Edmund will be leaving for Beruna soon and the war will begin. And don't forget which special visitors are arriving today! Enjoy!

Oh, and in the beginning of the story, I forgot to mention the ages of everyone. So here you go!

Susan – 26; Edmund – 24; Cor – 14; Corin – 14; Aravis – 13.

And yes, Cor, Corin and Aravis aren't just showing up because I wanted to add them. There is an important reason for them to be at Cair Paravel. More than what Edmund mentioned in the last chapter.

* * *

**Chapter 7 – Secrets in the Stable**

A smile spread across her face and the wind whipped at her hair, pulling strands from her long braid. Susan gave a bright laugh and glanced up at Edmund standing beside her. His smile was less enthusiastic and his eyes still troubled but in his heart he was relieved to see the procession winding through the streets of Cair Paravel.

Susan scanned every horseman drawing near for the blond rascal she was searching for. Soon she could see a dappled pony break away for the others and fly towards the castle gate. Susan threw Edmund a quick smile before darting down the stairs of the tower. She reached the courtyard just as the gates opened and the stout pony galloped in. The rider reigned up beside her and slid off.

"Corin!" Susan exclaimed. He met her with a wide smile and blond hair ruffled by the wind. She pulled him into a tight embrace and pressed a motherly kiss into his hair.

"It's been a long time, Queen Susan," Corin announced.

"Far too long, Corin," Susan agreed. "But where is your brother?"

"Cor and Aravis were riding too slowly for my taste," Corin replied.

Susan smiled and studied the lanky boy before her. "Why Corin! I do believe that you have grown!" she teased.

"Aye," he agreed. "Father says that I am nearly as tall as he was at my age. Cor is taller yet." As they spoke, the rest of the assembly arrived at the castle. Another boy, nearly identical to Corin (except for the fact that he was taller), dismounted and made his way towards his brother and Susan.

"Cor!" Susan gave him a warm smile. "And Aravis!" She added the last part when she noticed the dark-haired girl sliding off her mare. Aravis smiled somewhat shyly. She was a good deal shorter than either of the brothers and her tan skin gleamed under the bright sun.

"Good morning, friends!" Edmund greeted loudly as he arrived.

"King Edmund!" Corin exclaimed. "You missed the Spring feast last month that Father hosted at our castle."

"Yes," Edmund replied. "I regretted having to be absent, but my presence was required in Doorn."

"Doorn?" Corin questioned. "Where is that?"

"Have you not been paying attention in geography lessons, Corin?" remarked Cor. "It is the most prominent of the Lone Islands." Corin ducked away with a sheepish smile. Aravis had said nothing.

"You seem quite weary, Aravis, dear," Susan remarked. "Would you like to rest and freshen up before tea?"

"Yes, please," Aravis answered enthusiastically.

Susan smiled. "I'll show you to your room." She led Aravis up to the large doors of the castle and soon they were out of sight.

Edmund turned to the twins. "Do you also wish to rest, or would you rather take a stroll to the stables? I have business to attend to and thought that perhaps we could visit on our way there." Cor and Corin readily agreed and soon they were on their way.

* * *

After showing Aravis to her room, Susan retired to her own room. Behind the closed door, her smile faded and she felt the heavy burden settle upon her shoulders once again. She gently sat down on her bed and leaned her head heavily against the bedpost. So much was happening. As much as she loved their guests, she wasn't sure if she was quite ready to host company yet.

Cor's young face flashed through her mind and she was reminded of Peter at a younger age. The thought brought many adventures floating back and soon Susan felt tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. She missed them so much. How could she and Edmund ever survive without their siblings?

There was a sharp knock on her door and Susan quickly dried her eyes with her handkerchief.

"Yes?"

"Queen Susan?"

Susan hurried to answer the door. Lord Peridan stood outside.

"Queen Susan, there is a messenger here for your brother. Do you know where he is?"

"No, I have not seen him since our guests arrived," Susan replied. "Is it important? Perhaps I can see to it."

"Thank you, my queen," Lord Peridan answered. "I do not know what the message is, but he says he will deliver it only to King Edmund. However, I have been unable to find the King."

"Perhaps he took the princes to the stable," suggested Susan.

"Then I shall seek him there. My queen." Lord Peridan bowed and soon disappeared down the hallway. Susan closed the door after him. She hurried to the mirror hanging above the fireplace and tucked her loose strands of hair into place before wrapping her shawl around her shoulders. Then she slipped out of her room.

* * *

"Where does this lead to?" Corin asked curiously as he peered up the wooden ladder.

Edmund smiled. "It is merely the hayloft. No secrets." Corin looked a little disappointed. "However," Edmund continued with a twinkle in his eyes, "it has been said that there once was an outlaw who hid in here for a few days."

Corin grinned and began to scramble up the ladder. "Come on, Cor!"

Edmund laughed and clapped Cor on the shoulder. "Watch out for your brother," he instructed.

"Yes, sir," Cor agreed as he began to climb up after his brother, though less enthusiastically.

"King Edmund!"

Edmund turned around as he saw Lord Peridan hurrying towards him accompanied by a Hawk. "Lord Peridan!" Edmund greeted as he strode forward to meet them. "Who is our guest?"

"I am Redwing, my King," answered the Hawk as he settled on a bale of hay. "I bring a message of great importance."

Edmund frowned. "Is it more death and bloodshed?"

"Fortunately no, my king," Redwing answered. "Your scouts have been spying along the border and some have even dared to sneak into Telmar itself. Two days ago, another Bird and I discovered a rather large camp of Telmarine soldiers some six days' march from the Pass. They were heavily armed and from the smoke of the campfires in the distance, I would assume that more are on their way. We could not risk further investigation as it would lead to our discovery. That is all."

"Thank you, Redwing," Edmund replied as his brow knit in concentration. But as Edmund planned for the war, Cor and Corin's thoughts were far from battle as they explored the hayloft.

"Nothing but straw." Corin kicked at it in disgust. Cor didn't answer. He was peering out the little octagon window cut into the wall. He thought he saw someone walking along the path to the barn, but the corner of the barn soon hid that figure from sight.

"Cor!" Corin exclaimed. Cor turned away from the window. "Look at this!" Corin pointed excitedly to the floor. Cor hurried over to him and knelt down. "Is it blood?" Corin asked.

Cor inspected the spot. "Corin, it's not blood. It's just old mud."

Corin sighed. "I thought perhaps the outlaw had been injured in an epic fight with the knights and then climbed up here to hide." Corin kicked at the straw again and this time some fell over the edge. There was a squeal of surprise from below.

Quickly, Cor peered over the edge before gasping and turning to his brother. "That was Queen Susan!"

"Oops." Corin smiled apologetically.

Upon hearing Susan's scream, Edmund and Lord Peridan came rushing forward with swords drawn.

"What is happening?" Edmund demanded. Susan turned around, her eyes burning angrily. Straw stuck in her hair and dust was sprinkled down the front of her white dress. The look on her face was enough to cause Edmund to begin to laughing. She glared at him all the more.

"Come on, Su," he laughed. "You have to admit that it was funny."

"It was not funny!" she exclaimed.

"You look like a goat," Corin laughed as he peered over the edge at them.

"Corin!" Edmund exclaimed. "Get down here, young man!" Corin's head disappeared and they could hear scuffling.

"Let go of me, Cor!"

"Corin, enough!"

"Let me go or I'll hit you!"

"Alright." Cor released his grip and Corin went reeling backwards towards the ladder. Susan let out a gasp. For a moment, Edmund thought Corin would fall over the edge and end up in a bloody heap, but Cor caught him by the wrist and pulled him away from the edge. The two brothers stood frozen for a moment, but Cor gave a quick nod and it was broken. Corin scrambled down the ladder to stand in front of Edmund. He hung his head, a guilty expression playing on his face.

"Corin, did you know that Susan was walking below?" Edmund questioned.

"No, sir," Corin replied very quietly. Edmund glanced at Cor who was just reaching the end of the ladder.

"We honestly didn't know Queen Susan was there until we heard her scream," Cor added.

"Alright, I believe you," Edmund agreed. "Susan, it was merely an accident." Susan's face began to turn very red. "Are you ill?" Edmund asked in confusion. Susan couldn't hold it in anymore and began laughing.

"A goat, eh, Corin? I am such a silly girl!" she laughed as she wiped tears from the corners of her eyes. "Screaming when hay fell on my head. I've been in battle before and never screamed like that." Edmund began to laugh too and soon Cor and Lord Peridan joined him. Corin flushed a deep red and wished he could sink into the ground and hide.

"A wonderful mistake, Corin," Susan announced. She extended her hand to him. "No grudges?"

"Alright," Corin agreed slowly as he took her hand.

"What would we do without you and your mishaps, Corin?" asked Edmund.

"Life would be very dreary," Susan agreed. And Corin beamed as bright as the sun rising over the Eastern Ocean.

* * *

**Author's note: **This will be my last chapter during Christmas because things will be very busy. I have decided to attempt (notice I say attempt) not to write during my week or so off but we shall see how that goes. Anyway, I won't be updating for a little bit but I shall continue to reply to your reviews and PMs during this time. :) Enjoy your Christmas holiday! When I return, Edmund shall be departing for war and the first blows shall be exchanged. Stay tuned and remember the reason for this Christmas season. Merry CHRISTmas :)


	8. Uncertainties

**Author's note:** Hey everyone! I'm back after the holidays! Did everyone have a wonderful Christmas? Did you enjoy my short Christmas stories? I think you did because I answered a great number of cheerful reviews. But here is the next chapter of "Born For This"! Hope you enjoy it! There's a little peek into Aravis's life before her father tried to marry her off. It's a picture of a broken family which I think many of us can relate to – whether we share similar experiences or we have friends who have.

* * *

**Chapter 8 – Uncertainties**

"It seems so strange to be here again without King Peter and Queen Lucy present," Aravis commented as she gazed at the land unfolding before her. The beautiful blue river stretched far to the west and the Shuddering Woods blanketed the south. Aravis leaned against the stone fortifications around the edge of the tower and breathed in the crisp air.

"Yes," Cor agreed. "The castle seems very quiet and uneasy. It's almost as if it is the calm before the storm."

"Do you think that King Edmund and Queen Susan miss their siblings?" Aravis wondered.

"Yes, something terrible," Cor answered. He glanced at the slim girl beside him. "That green gown brings out the color in your eyes. Is it new?"

Aravis turned her head to hide her slightly flushed cheeks. "Yes," she replied. "Queen Susan said it had been one of her old gowns when she was my age."

"It seems strange to think of Queen Susan as being our age once," Cor remarked as he returned his gaze to the land rambling towards the horizon.

"You can see it in her eyes sometimes," Aravis responded. "And when she laughs, I think I can see a young girl who loved to dream. She says there was a great war going on where she came from, and I sometimes wonder if her dreams were shattered and now she doesn't dare to dream such wildly wonderful things."

"Is she unhappy in Narnia?" Cor asked in puzzlement.

"Oh no," Aravis smiled. "Of course not. She loves Narnia dearly. But I think she misses her father and mother. The responsibility laid upon her is great." Aravis's smile faded and Cor turned back to her.

"You miss your family as well," Cor guessed.

"Yes." Aravis sighed wistfully. "It was such a loving place until my brother rode to war. After he died, everything fell apart. Father immersed himself in his business and Mother shattered into a thousand pieces. It felt like they had forgotten me. Until Father decided to marry me off." Aravis shuddered. "The only choice I had was to run away. But I'm so glad I met you, Cor." She turned grateful eyes to his honest face. "Your family has made me welcome a thousand times."

"It was Aslan who caused our paths to cross," Cor answered. He would have said more, but their conversation ceased as footsteps approached and Edmund stepped out of the doorway.

"Cor, can I ask you something?" requested Edmund, clasping his hands behind his back.

"Of course, King Edmund," Cor answered, rising to his feet. He gave Aravis an apologetic smile but she waved it aside. The two walked several paces away and Aravis could no longer understand their conversation.

"Cor, I leave for Beruna tomorrow," Edmund explained. "And I wanted to ask you about something that has been weighing on my mind heavily in the last few days."

Cor waited quietly for Edmund to continue. Edmund appeared deep in thought for a few moments. Cor had the idea that Edmund had temporarily lost himself in another time in another place where someone else had been telling him what he was about to tell Cor. When Edmund at last shook off the shadows of the past, there was an evident sadness about him.

"Cor."

"Yes?"

"Will you promise me something?"

"Of course," Cor answered honestly. "As long as it is within my power to keep it."

"Wise words, Cor," Edmund replied, clapping the lanky boy on the shoulder. "Your father is teaching you well."

"T-thank you," Cor stammered at the praise.

Edmund smiled and cleared his throat. "What I wanted to ask you, Cor, is about something very dear to me. Tomorrow I ride to war, and I do not know if I shall ever live to see this beautiful castle again. And if I do, perhaps it will not be the standard of Narnia that is flying from the towers."

"I am sure that Aslan will grant you success," Cor assured.

Edmund gave a faint smile. "I do not doubt Aslan's goodwill, Cor, but sometimes things do not always happen the way we would like them to." He paused. "While I am gone, I would like to know that my sister is looked after. Cor, should anything happen to me, will you promise to keep her safe in my absence? Will you be to her like another brother for Peter and me? You and Corin?"

Cor gazed with hesitance into Edmund's dark eyes so full of trust and wisdom. He felt too incompetent to accept the task laid upon him. But he knew he could not refuse.

"Will you, Cor?" Edmund pleaded.

"Yes," Cor replied. "Of course."

* * *

There was a quiet knock on his door. Edmund looked up from his desk. The candle beside him flickered in the dark. His hand subtly moved to the hilt of his dagger at his waist.

"Who is there?" Edmund called bravely.

The door opened softly and a young face peered in. "King Edmund?"

"Cor." Edmund breathed a sigh of relief. "What are you doing awake at this hour?" His hand slipped from his dagger and his guard relaxed.

"I couldn't sleep," Cor admitted. Edmund watched him closely and waited for Cor to inform him as to the reasons of his lack of sleep.

Cor took a deep breath before he began. "What if I am not the right person you should trust to look after Queen Susan?" he asked as he approached.

Edmund smiled. "I think you are, Cor."

"But I don't know anything about being you," Cor protested as he stood in front of Edmund's desk, not daring to look him in the eyes.

"You don't have to be me," laughed Edmund. "Nay, I don't want you to try to be me. You are a unique person who has been created by Aslan. We all have our own identities. You will handle things in your own way."

"But what if I let you down?" Cor asked, his eyes flickering upward for a brief second.

"Cor, I know you won't," Edmund assured. "But if it will confirm my decision to you, I will share a piece of advice that Peter taught me when I was your age." He waited while Cor hesitantly sat down on the edge of a chair in front of Edmund's desk. Then he began. "We live and die by the same rule: follow Aslan to the end. Never once have we ever walked alone. He is always there, Cor. You must remember that."

"He was with me when I took the news of Rabadash's attack to Father," Cor commented. "He spoke with me and told me how He brought Aravis and me together."

"Yes," Edmund agreed. "He is always with us."

"And He will be with us now," added Cor as he summoned his courage. "Thank you, King Edmund. I will try to my best to not let you down. I pray that Aslan will give me strength."

Edmund smiled. "You're welcome, Cor. I never doubted you." He placed a scrap of paper in the boy's hand. Cor lifted it to the light and smiled at the words.

* * *

Edmund stood in the courtyard, his helmet settled under his arm, as he awaited the dawn. He gazed upwards as the sun slowly began to wash the white towers with golden light. As the dawn spread throughout the courtyard and fell upon his face, Edmund solemnly bent one knee and whispered a silent prayer of thanksgiving and blessing for his country. His hand rested lightly over the lion emblem stitched on his chest. Then the golden light was gone, replaced by the simple early light of morning and the castle came to life.

The horses stamped and chomped at their bits as the stable hands brought them to the courtyard. The knights began to assemble, each bearing their respective emblem. The colorful flags fluttered in the soft breeze.

Edmund sighed reluctantly as the wind lifted his ebony hair and his silver chainmail rustled as he stepped forward. His eyes portrayed no evident emotion. His heart pounded steadily as ever in his solid chest. He felt a mixture of excitement and apprehension as he realized what the battles might bring in the future. Edmund turned around as he heard hooves approaching. Oreius stepped out of the shadows, his armor plating strapped on. He carried a sword on either side and one more was fastened to his back.

"Good morning, Oreius," Edmund greeted. "Is everything in order?"

"Yes, King Edmund. Everything is ready," he answered. "But are you sure that you are ready?"

Edmund's face was troubled as he glanced back at the castle towers gleaming in the morning light. He desperately wished he could see the golden griffin flying over the castle once more. Perhaps if his brother was here, it would not be so hard to ride to war.

"I know what I must do, Oreius," Edmund replied as he turned his gaze back to his general. "Even if I am reluctant to leave, I must set everything aside for the defense of my country."

"I know," Oreius answered, "for this is sacrifice." Edmund nodded gravely. Oreius gave a little nod with his head and stepped away to help with last minute preparations. Edmund looked over his shoulder as a conspicuous dappled pony was led into the courtyard by a small boy in chainmail. Edmund wove his way through the horses and seized the young culprit by the collar of his tunic.

"Corin! Where do you think you are going?" Edmund demanded.

"Can't I go with you, King Edmund? Please?" Corin turned his pleading blue eyes to Edmund's face. Usually Edmund gave in to the eyes that were so much like Lucy's. But not today.

Edmund's face softened into a gentle smile. "Nay, Corin. I promised your father that you would remain here – out of trouble!"

"Corin! There you are!" Cor came stumbling hastily down the stairs from the front door of the castle. "Corin!" he panted. "I thought you were sneaking away again!"

"He was," Edmund commented.

Corin hung his head in shame. But then he straightened and looked Edmund in the eye. "I just wanted to look after you for Queen Susan," he declared.

"Thank you, Corin, but I trust my brother to take care of himself," Susan interrupted as she appeared in the doorway, Aravis just behind her.

"Susan." Edmund stepped forward quickly. She gave him a sad little smile. She knew what the next few weeks would bring. She tried to convince herself that this was just like any other time Edmund had ridden off with a large force. But somehow, deep down, she knew that this time things would be very different.

"Are you sure you should do this?" Susan asked.

"Yes, I am," Edmund answered.

"Then I want you to have this." She pressed something into his hand. Edmund opened his gloved fist to see a golden locket.

"Susan," he protested, forcing it back into her hands. "I can't take it."

"I want you to keep it," she insisted as she reached up to clasp it around his neck. "Keep it for me." She looked into his eyes and her sadness was evident. "Return to me safely, Ed."

"I cannot promise anything," Edmund answered, thought he desperately wished he could. The weight of the necklace fastened around his neck was nothing, but the weight of the trust it carried burdened his heart. He took hold of her hand and looked into her eyes with earnestness. "But I will do my best to return safe and sound to you, Su. And should I return with a broken body with no breath left, know that my spirit lives with Him."

"I know, Ed," Susan answered bravely as she hugged him tightly. How she hoped that her brother would return unharmed to her!

Edmund tried to smile; attempting to summon his boyish grin he had so often worn in the past, but discovered he could no longer find it. He would never be a little boy again. He was a man and knew he must carry his responsibilities with the courage that he had learned in his past.

After a few silently shed tears, Susan stepped back, trying to swallow her fears and doubts. Edmund gave her hand a last squeeze of reassurance. She watched as he shook hands with Cor and whispered something in low tones. He patted the boy on the shoulder and moved on to tousle Corin's messy hair. He took Aravis's hand and gave her a warm parting smile, but at the last moment, she overcame her quietness and hugged him tightly.

Edmund gazed at them for a long, silent moment, etching their faces eternally in his memory. He gave no great speech or important words to remember. It was quiet and solemn because they all knew he could very well be riding to his death.

"Well, I'm off," Edmund said at last. "The Lion's blessings upon you all!" Then he turned on his heel and strode towards Oreius and his waiting company of soldiers and knights.

"Nai mornie alantie ore nuva man!" Susan called after him.

"The same blessing upon you, dear sister!" Edmund cried in response, raising his hand in farewell as he swung himself into the saddle.

"Be safe, my brother," Susan whispered as she watched the great company start for Beruna. "Be safe, Just One. And may Aslan bring you safely to my side once again."

* * *

**Author's note:** Well…I can't tell you what Susan called to Edmund, but I can only tell you that it is an ancient Narnian blessing. You'll have to wait till a future chapter to learn what it meant. As well as what was on the paper that Ed gave to Cor. Or you could just google it, if you really have to know. :D

Edmund is off to war at last and the really exciting things will begin to happen. Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Your thoughts are always appreciated.

This is my last chapter for 2012. Agh! But I'll have a lot more in 2013! Looking forward to another wonderful year with you!


	9. Messenger at Beruna

**Author's note:** Sorry that this chapter took me so long to write! First time I've had writer's block on this story. Bleh. Thanks to Psyche for helping me work through some character development with Aravis! Enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter 9 – Messenger at Beruna**

Susan raised her eyes to peer over the edge of her book which she was only pretending to read. Cor was silhouetted against the library window, hands clasped behind him as he took in the brilliant sunset. Corin lay on his stomach on the rug in front of the fire, rapidly scanning a dusty volume of ancient history which he had pulled off the shelf. He stifled a yawn absentmindedly with the back of his hand. Aravis sat on the settee with her feet tucked underneath her skirt as her fingers traced one of Edmund's chess pieces. Her mind wandered aimlessly as she stared across the room.

Susan forced herself to suppress a yawn and blinked sleepily by the warmth of the fire. She frowned as she remembered countless nights spent in this same library with Lucy by her side as they waited for their brothers to return after a grueling campaign or perhaps a simple hunting trip.

A slamming noise interrupted her thoughts and she dropped her book into her lap in surprise.

"Sorry," Corin apologized. He held a closed book in his hand. "I've had enough history for tonight." He set the book aside as he sat up and stretched. "It only told about wars and bloodshed." He flopped back down with a sigh.

"I certainly have thought enough about that for one day," Aravis agreed.

Cor turned from the window to face them. "All that we call history – money, poverty, ambition, war, classes, empires, slavery – is the long, terrible story of man trying to find something other than the One which will make him happy," Cor answered. The other three occupants of the room stared at him open mouthed. "I didn't make that up," Cor announced with a sheepish smile as he held up a small book.

Susan laughed. "I was really impressed for a moment there, Cor!"

"I knew he wasn't that eloquent," Corin replied. Aravis nudged him with her foot – none too gently. "Princesses don't kick," Corin retorted as he rolled out of reach.

"I'm not a princess!" Aravis exclaimed.

"Aravis." Cor placed the book he had been holding on the windowsill. "Aravis, we already had this disagreement. You are part of our family now and–"

"I'm not a princess!" Aravis insisted as she leaped to her feet. "Lady is already to lavish a title–"

"Aravis!" Cor exclaimed.

"What is this all about?" Susan interrupted, her blue eyes darting from Aravis's face to Cor's and back again.

"It doesn't concern you," Aravis muttered and retreated to her chair again, not meeting Susan's penetrating gaze.

"Aravis doesn't think that she deserves the title of princess," Corin explained from his sprawled position on the rug.

"Aravis," Susan began gently.

"Please, I do not wish to bring division among us tonight," responded Aravis. Susan nodded in respect. Corin sighed and rolled onto his back, his gaze drifting to the crackling wood in the fireplace. Cor said nothing, but as he turned back to the window, the look he gave Susan told her that he understood Aravis's position, but he had already come to terms with it.

* * *

With stamping and neighing and shaking of reins, the great company arrived outside the walls of Beruna. Edmund slid off his sable horse, his boots thumping against the cobblestone pavement. He shaded his eyes with his hand and surveyed the area. To his satisfaction, there were a great number of soldiers already gathered. Supply wagons were nearly full and large barrels were being filled with fresh water before the end of the day. Edmund made his way towards the busy well, leading his horse along behind him. He handed to his reigns to the boy who was waiting to water his horse.

"King Edmund!"

Edmund's head snapped up as he saw a young man, only a few years older than himself, approaching quickly. "Galen!" Edmund greeted his friend. "You have done a fine job here."

"Thank you, King Edmund," Galen answered, a smile lighting up his face at his king's approval. "Father has been a bit under the weather, so I oversaw the preparations for him."

"Tell Lord Marius that I said that you have done an excellent job," Edmund replied. "I am glad that he is allowing you to join us. You are a superb swordsman."

Galen ducked his head at the praise. "You are very good yourself."

Edmund smiled a little and glanced at his friend's hazel eyes. "When do you think the preparations shall be finished? I hope to gain the Pass before Telmar does."

Galen scratched his auburn hair as he calculated. "There are still some wagons to be loaded and the troops from the House of Eriman have yet to arrive. They sent word yester eve that they would arrive in two days."

"Ah, very good," Edmund agreed as they began to walk again. "Then all is going according to schedule."

"Would you like a drink, King Edmund?" Galen held out the full dipper he had taken from the bucket sitting on the edge of the well.

"Yes, please," Edmund answered with a smile as he accepted the dipper. The cool water slipped down his throat easily. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, feeling more refreshed.

"King Edmund!"

Edmund turned around, dipper still in hand, to see Lord Peridan hurrying towards him, helmet tucked under one arm, sword swinging in its sheath to match his stride. A hawk gave a cry overhead as Edmund shaded his eyes.

"A messenger," Lord Peridan announced and gestured to the circling bird before disappearing among the bustle of the camp. Edmund extended his right gloved hand and with fluttering wings, the Hawk descended to its perch.

"Greetings, Redtail," addressed Edmund as he returned the dipper to the bucket of refreshing water. "What word do you bring?"

"Only this, my king," Redtail answered as he bowed his head respectively to his king. "The Telmarine army is only three days from the Pass. However, they have halted their advance for nearly two days now. They seem to be waiting for a signal or an order for advance."

"Or for our progression," Edmund muttered, rubbing his chin with his left hand and casting his eyes to the ground as he thought. "Perhaps they have created some sort of snare for us." He lifted his head again. "Redtail, is it possible to have Sparrows sent to the capital to spy? I know it is deep into enemy territory but do you think they could make it? Perhaps the Gulls could watch the wharves as well, in case the Telmarines plan an invasion by sea."

"It shall be carried out at once, my king," Redtail agreed. "I do not doubt that our bravest Sparrows would be able to stay hidden in the capital. I shall also send word to the Gulls."

"Thank you," Edmund responded. "We must take all precautions if we are to seize the upper hand." He inclined his head to the Hawk who responded similarly before soaring into the vibrant Narnian sky on his way to the Pass.

"Do you really think that they would try to take Narnia from the sea?" Galen asked as he and Edmund began to walk again.

"No," Edmund answered. "It would take them far too long to sail around the southern waste lands below the tip of Calormen and the northern pass will be frozen until midsummer."

"So they will have to come by land," Galen assumed.

"Yes," Edmund replied. "Unless they sail down the Great River. But they could only use small boats and probably could never manage to make it safely down the falls. I think it is safe to assume that there will be no attack on Cair Paravel and no invasion from the sea."

"Then we have only one place upon which to center our attacks," Galen announced. "On to the Pass!"

* * *

Alone in her chambers, Susan cradled her head in the crook of her elbow as she leaned heavily against her personal writing desk and watched the flame of the candle dance in the dark. Her fingers strayed across the smooth surface of her desk and stumbled upon Lucy's sheathed dagger. Susan smiled softly as she pictured her vibrant and cheerful sister, golden hair flowing behind her as she laughed and danced in the warm summer breeze. How she missed her piece of pure sunlight!

Susan's fingers began to trace the grooves in the small lion-headed pommel. As she looked at the dagger, she was reminded of another blade with a lion-headed pommel. Susan sat up abruptly. Rhindon. What had become of her eldest brother's trusty blade?

Grasping the silver candlestick in one hand, she hastily rose from her seat, her chair grating across the floor. She seized her cloak hanging in its place near the fireplace. She settled the cloak about her shoulders, fixing the clasp loosely. Then she swung open the door and stepped into the silent hallway. She walked quickly along, casting a brief smile to a Leopard guard sitting near the doors that led to the Princes' chambers. But she didn't stop.

Susan hurried past Edmund's room and Lucy's as well. At last she arrived at the oaken door to Peter's chamber which she had only dared to enter once since his disappearance. Her hand hesitated as she grasped the doorknob. But then she flicked her wrist and the door swung open quietly on well-oiled hinges. She entered rapidly and refrained from glancing around the familiar place that still smell of her brother.

She went to the gilded chest in the far corner. She knelt down beside it, her grey skirt around her as she set the candle carefully on the ground beside her. She lifted the heavy lid of the chest and peered inside. Various parts of Peter's armor protruded from the pile in distorted positions. She carefully lifted the dwarf-forged chainmail hauberk out of the chest. It brought a proud smile to her face as she thought of how magnificent her brother always looked as he rode off to protect their country and defend their honor. But brushing aside the memories, Susan reminded herself of her purpose and set the chainmail back in its place.

There was no Rhindon in the chest. Susan had guessed that from the beginning. She sat back on her heels and tried to think. Maybe Peter had left Rhindon in his study. However, she knew that Peter rarely went anywhere without his sword. But if Peter had taken his sword with him riding, which was the most probable option, wouldn't Edmund have found it with the crowns? He hadn't mentioned finding it, and she certainly hadn't seen it anywhere.

Susan rose to her feet again, deciding upon her next course of action. She would write to Edmund and ask him if he had seen the important sword, or had perhaps forgotten to mention it. She remembered to take the candle as she swept towards the door.

She reached for the doorknob, but lingered a moment more, looking around the familiar place. Her eyes locked on a tapestry embroidered with great skill. But even the skill of the seamstress could not capture all the splendor and glory of the Lion upon it.

"Aslan, where are you? What is happening?" she whispered. She waited for the familiar voice, or perhaps even the stirring of the wind. But no response came. She turned and closed the door soundly behind her.

Susan walked down the hallway again, but this time her steps were slower and less anxious. She took her time, pondering the restless thoughts her in head. Besides writing to Edmund, she had run out of places to look for Rhindon. Why she needed to find it, she wasn't sure. But perhaps it was because it was so important to her brother.

Susan stopped suddenly as she noticed that the door leading to the ballroom was ajar. She peered into the darkness of the vacant ballroom. Movement drew her eyes toward the marble balcony bathed in harsh moonlight. She saw the figure of a girl, clad in a flowing pale nightdress, black hair tumbling over her shoulders.

* * *

**Author's note:** Well, there you go! Until next time, when you discover who the girl is!

Oh, and what Cor reads from that book is an actual quote from C. S. Lewis. I had to tweak it slightly so it was in Narnian terms.


	10. Silver Moonlight

**Author's note: **On the last chapter I forgot to mention this: I created a layout for Cair Paravel and the surrounding city. It's available at narniagirl11. deviantart art/Cair-Paravel-Castle-and-City-Layout- 348101173. (Removed the spaces.) I told a couple of you that I was working on it. :)

Other thing, if you go to my youtube account (narniagirl11), I did another "trailerish" video for "Born For This".

One last thing: check out the new story cover! I redid it even more. Can you see the face?

Okay, now enjoy Chapter 10 (Wow!), featuring another good Talking Wolf for Gaia Was Framed!

* * *

**Chapter 10 – Silver Moonlight**

Edmund rubbed at his eyes as he tried to remain attentive. Though the Pass of Telmar was only a day's journey from Beruna, it had taken the large Narnian army nearly two. They had pushed on through the night, in hopes of gaining the Pass before the Telmarines did. Now Edmund waited for the scouts to bring news. He slowly scanned the map of the Pass unfolded before him on the portable table, plans refusing to form in his mind as he stared at the parchment.

"Your majesty!"

Edmund raised his head in surprise as a Sparrow dropped a tiny sheet of paper upon his desk.

"It is from your royal sister," the Sparrow announced.

"Thank you," Edmund responded. The Sparrow nodded and soared towards the budding treetops again. Edmund examined the folded parchment which was only about the length of his index finger. He tore open the seal to read the contents.

_Dear Edmund,_

_What has become of Rhindon? I cannot find it. Did you see it when you found their crowns?_

_With love, Susan_

Edmund frowned, deep in thought. Rhindon. How could he have forgotten? He tried to recall that confusing night. He could not remember seeing his brother's sword in the clearing or in the wardrobe.

"My king."

The voice failed to penetrate into his deep thoughts.

"King Edmund!"

Edmund glanced up from the letter held between his fingers to see a Wolf, his fur coated with dew, and mud stretching up his legs.

"Greetings, cousin," Edmund welcomed. "I'm sorry that I did not hear you sooner."

The Wolf nodded. "I do not doubt that there were more pressing matters on your mind, your majesty."

"Yes." Edmund's kindly smile faltered but he forced himself to focus on the present messenger. "You have journeyed from the Pass of Telmar, I assume."

"Yes, your majesty," answered the Wolf. "I am Silverfang, a scout and messenger of Narnia."

"What news do you bring of the Telmarines?" Edmund questioned.

"Their advance remains halted," Silverfang replied. "A dispatch arrived at the camp this morning, but so far no action has been taken."

"What news have they received of our advance?" asked Edmund.

"Two of their scouts advanced to the pass but never returned." Silverfang smiled grimly. "It is my belief that the Trees, eager for their part, soon destroyed them. Other scouts have returned with the news that Narnia's forces advance quickly from Beruna. By nightfall they shall undoubtedly know of our arrival when they see the smoke and glow of the fires."

Edmund rubbed his chin in thought as he pondered the situation. His mind sped with strategies and a plan of attack began to take shape. Perhaps they would have to forsake comfort for success, but he was certain it would grant them a victory.

"Silverfang," he addressed the Wolf, "please convey this message to General Oreius. There shall be no fires lit tonight. Surprise will lend us great advantage. He will know the best way to deliver it to our soldiers."

"It shall be done at once, my King," Silverfang answered.

"The men will be sorry that they cannot warm their fingers and toes in this cool weather, but they will understand in time," Edmund announced. "Bear the message swiftly, Silverfang. Aslan's blessings upon you, cousin."

"And upon you, King Edmund! May your sword ring true in battles to come." With that, the Wolf bowed and trotted away. Edmund immediately began tracing the map with his fingers as he marked their position in comparison to that of the Telmarine army.

* * *

Susan stopped suddenly as she noticed that the door leading to the ballroom was ajar. She peered into the darkness of the vacant ballroom. Movement drew her eyes toward the marble balcony bathed in harsh moonlight. She saw the figure of a girl, clad in a flowing pale nightdress, black hair tumbling over her shoulders.

"Aravis?" Susan called softly. She could see the girl's silhouette against the waning moon as she stood on the balcony overlooking the rushing, changing sea. Susan crossed the marble floor of the dark ballroom and came to stand upon the balcony beside the former Tarkheena. "Aravis, are you alright?" Susan asked.

Aravis gave a soft sigh, but did not answer. In the dim light, her eyes seemed almost black with no noticeable pupil and tears glistened in them as Susan waited for her response.

"I hate quarreling with Cor," she said vehemently. "It's so silly, really."

"What do you mean?" Susan asked.

Aravis gazed up at the moon. "Queen Susan, have you ever said something that you know you can't take back?"

Susan placed a hand gently on the girl's shoulder. "Yes, Aravis, I have. The tongue is a dangerous weapon. It can be sharper than a double edged sword. We have to guard our words carefully."

"It's so hard," Aravis muttered in frustration as her dark eyes shifted to Susan's face. "My temper runs away with me and before I know it, I lash out in anger. I know I said something tonight that really hurt Cor."

"Have you tried simply asking him for forgiveness?" Susan suggested. "That is usually a good place to start."

Aravis sighed deeply and glanced back at the ocean. She inwardly cursed her foolish pride. She hated to admit that she was wrong.

"Cor trusts you, Aravis," Susan reminded. "Are you going to let your friendship fall apart because of a disagreement?"

"But even if I apologize, it's not going to change anything!" Aravis exclaimed. "We have quarreled many times before, but this time I really, deeply hurt him and I don't think it can be fixed!"

Susan didn't answer. Her face remained emotionless as she gazed into the night and heard a lone wolf, deep in the forest, sending up a long, sorrowful cry. At last her gaze returned to Aravis's conflicted face. "You'll make the right choice. I know you will, Aravis. Don't let the sun set on your anger." Then she turned and swept away into the dark ballroom, disappearing as silently as she had entered.

Aravis frowned, her mind engaged in an intense struggle. She knew what the right choice was, but she was scared and proud. Would Cor truly forgive her? She didn't want to admit that he had been right all along. But she knew that her friendship with Cor was more important. Aravis swallowed hard.

_Humbleness, Aslan_, she prayed silently. _Help me learn humbleness._

* * *

"All clear!" Galen bellowed for the benefit of the giant standing above the gaping entrance of the Pass. The giant threw his heavy weight again the massive boulders which went crashing down the slope. They quickly began to fill the space between the two steep walls on either side of the Pass. The Narnians stood a safe distance from the rockslide and watched in grim satisfaction. The entrance was buried under the onslaught and to any eye it would appear to be futile to try to break through the blockade.

This was exactly what Edmund had planned. He did not wish to engage the Telmarines in a full battle. The value of life was the most important concern to him at the moment. A blockade and a mountain ambush were perfect for startling their enemies and capturing them without inflicting great loss on either side.

Galen watched as Edmund examined the nearly impenetrable rock wall. He seemed pleased with the work, and Galen was satisfied. He turned around, hand resting on the hilt of his sword, to see General Oreius looking down on him gravely.

"Satisfied with your work, young one?" he questioned.

Galen scowled. "I am no longer a child, Master Centaur."

"I did not call you a child," Oreius reminded, an amused look in his eyes.

"No," Galen agreed. "But you called me 'young one' which is the equivalent."

"And why have you taken offense at that?" Oreius questioned.

"Because I am no longer the silly boy who tried to put a saddle on you!" Galen snapped, quite red in the face.

Edmund obviously overheard this, because the next moment he was standing beside Galen, trying desperately to keep a silly grin from spreading over his face. "A saddle on Oreius, eh, Galen?" Galen moaned, flushing even deeper in front of his king. "I don't believe that you ever told me this story," Edmund remarked.

"It was a long time ago, King Edmund," Oreius replied. "I have long since forgiven young Galen for his mischief. Your majesty." He inclined his head towards Edmund who smiled and nodded in response. Oreius patted Galen, who was still scowling and redder than a tomato, on the shoulder as he passed.

After Edmund thought Oreius was out of earshot, he whispered to Galen, "When I was younger, I always wanted to try to put a saddle on Oreius. I don't blame you."

"Be thankful that your brother isn't here, King Edmund," Oreius called over his shoulder.

_I wish he was,_ Edmund thought solemnly. But out loud he said, "How do you manage to always hear things that aren't meant for you to hear?"

Oreius looked back and smiled. "It is one of the advantages of being a centaur. If you were a Rabbit, you would understand."

"Are all centaurs as gifted as he?" Galen questioned, sharing a glance with Edmund.

"No, I doubt it," Edmund answered.

"Good."

"Why?"

"I'm tired of experiencing the blunt end of their gifts." With that Galen stamped away to oversee the final stages of the plan. Edmund chuckled to himself, shaking his head in amusement, as he made his way towards Lord Peridan.

* * *

Cor fingered the crumpled paper in the pocket of his trousers, rubbing his thumb over the familiar creases. In a short time, he had come to know and love every little wrinkle in the parchment. But it wasn't the letter itself that he loved most. It was the wisdom written upon them.

_I lift mine eyes unto the hills. Where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lion, the maker of heaven and earth. Trust Him, Cor, and do not forsake His ways, whatever the future may bring. – King Edmund._

"Cor?" A voice called softly. His head snapped up and he saw Aravis peeking through the door. "Can I talk to you?"

"Yes," he answered, momentarily forgetting about Edmund's words as he was reminded of his disagreement with Aravis.

"Look, Cor," Aravis began uncomfortably. "This is hard for me to do, so don't speak until I'm done. Alright?"

"Alright," Cor agreed solemnly.

Aravis took a deep breath and twisted a lock of her dark hair around her finger tightly as she tried not to look into his blue eyes. "Earlier, I said some things – a lot of things actually – that I know I shouldn't have. And—" She broke off and glanced up at his honest face. "Why are you grinning so ridiculously?" she exclaimed.

"Grinning ridiculously?" Cor hastily tried to regain his composure.

"Yes," Aravis insisted. "That silly look you assume when you know that you were right and I was wrong."

"I'm not always right," Cor reminded.

Aravis narrowed her eyes. "Shasta."

He bit back a reply and remained silent. He knew that when she called him that, she was serious, through and through. "Aravis."

"Never mind," she muttered, turning on her heel, and darted through the doorway.

"Aravis! Come back!" Cor shouted.

* * *

**Author's note:** So that's the end of the chapter. Aravis did not wish to cooperate at all, so it took a very long time. I hope I was able to keep her in line. :)

The 2013 Lion's Award nominations have begun. If you feel so compelled, visit the long fanfiction section of The Lion's Call (www. thelionscall. com) to nominate "Born For This". I believe that it can be nominated for the "Eustace Award – Best Long Work in Progress" and the "Rilian Award – Best AU story, long or short". Feel free to check out the other great stories listed! There are some really good ones, especially the past winners of Lion Awards. Thank you so much!

Oh, the other thing: I have received several reviews on the last couple chapters asking if we will hear from Peter and Lucy. The answer is no. 1) it draws away from the story and has nothing to do with the conflict in Narnia; 2) Time works differently between the two worlds. Remember, at the end of LWW when the Pevensies tumbled out, only a few seconds had passed. So really, Peter and Lucy aren't even doing anything. They are basically frozen or falling in reallly, really, really slow motion. Hope that answers your questions! :) Until next time, my fair readers! Review!


	11. Ambush in the Pass

**Chapter Eleven – Ambush in the Pass**

Corin leaped to his feet, groaning as he did so. He turned and scurried down the ladder. Cor quickly followed him down. Corin raced to the door and peered into the bright sunlight. He groaned again as he saw that the gate of the southern paddock stood open. A trail of hoof prints in the soft mud led away from the gate, towards the castle gardens.

"Of all the—" Corin broke off in frustration.

"How to you plan to fix this mishap?" Cor asked, coming up behind him.

Corin shrugged. "Catch them. It can't be that hard." He trotted off, following the tracks as Cor trailed behind. They crossed the distance between the stables and the castle in a few minutes. They heard the soft nickers and whinnies before they saw the horses that grazed peacefully on the edge of the gardens.

"Follow me," Corin mouthed. Cor cautiously followed at a distance. "Here horsie-horsie," Corin called as he approached. "Here, girl!" Lucy's mare Jubilee lifted her head and eyed him. Corin stepped forward, reaching for her halter and he realized that he hadn't brought any lead ropes with him. He looked over his shoulder. "Cor, I forgot the lead ropes. Can you get a couple? They're hanging in the tack room."

Cor obediently trudged back towards the stable while Corin held Jubilee's halter. He patted her neck and talked softly to her. Cor returned with several ropes in hand.

"Catch!" he called and tossed one at his brother. Corin snatched it from the air but the flying tail of the rope spooked Jubilee. She bolted, tearing Corin's grip from her halter. The heads of the other horses flew up in alarm and soon they raced after Jubilee who charged farther into the garden, jumping the hedges and trampling the flowerbeds.

Without a word the brothers raced after them. They heard a scream of surprise and soon nearly collided with Aravis who fled in the opposite direction of the horses. She glared at Corin as she passed, knowing that somehow this was his fault. Corin shrugged his shoulders and kept running. They reached the open courtyard of the garden where the fountains flowed and skidded to a halt as they spotted Susan.

"Queen Susan!" Corin exclaimed as he watched the small stampede swerve in her direction. But being a skilled horsewoman, Susan was ready. She couldn't stop them, but she could lead them back to the paddock. She planted her feet shoulder-width apart and prepared to spring at Jubilee who still led the herd. Susan's hands opened to grab. Jubilee plowed past, but Susan caught a hold of her mane and swung herself up. She leaned over the mare's neck, guiding her with her knees as she circled her around.

Cor stared at Susan in open mouthed in shock. He greatly respected her but couldn't believe his eyes. She rode well but her petticoats flapped in the breeze and her bare ankles showed. Corin noticed his brother's gaping and quickly shoved him. Cor stumbled backwards but caught himself and glared at his brother. Corin ignored him and watched as Susan drove the horses over the flowerbeds and hedges again and towards the corral. Breaking into a run, Cor and Corin followed behind. The horses thundered through the gate and Corin moved to latch it behind them. Susan circled around again, slowing Jubilee to a trot and then to a walk. She slid off the mare's back in front of the gate. Jubilee turned and pranced away as Susan smoothed her mud-splattered skirts.

Corin shaded his eyes as he leaned against the gate, grinning like an old hound dog. "That was some roundup, wasn't it, Queen Susan?"

She laughed shakily, her heart still pounding to the rhythm of the horse's hooves. "I suppose it was, Corin."

Cor didn't say anything for several minutes, still astonished. He had heard in the past that Susan wasn't always the Gentle Queen, but he never expected that she could ride like a madwoman.

Susan seemed to read his bewildered mind and added modestly, "I learned a few tricks from Lucy. She's the true horsewoman."

Corin elbowed his brother and whispered, "You should have seen them in the races last year."

Susan smiled wryly. "Peter did scold us for being a little too rowdy. I think he would do the same if he were here with us today." She trailed off, and Corin had the feeling that she no longer thought about the horses. Her mind traveled somewhere else, though he wasn't sure where that somewhere was. Susan smiled again, shaking her head to clear the thoughts. "I should probably change my clothes. And one of you needs to explain to Aravis what happened." Her eyes lingered a moment longer on Corin, reminding him to apologize. She added as an afterthought, "And you will need to inform the head groom. No doubt he will want a full explanation."

Corin resisted the very strong urge to groan.

* * *

Edmund pulled his left knee up to his chest as he rested his back again the tree trunk in the quiet camp. The stars were shining brightly but no fire flickered with warmth and comfort in the crisp spring air. He was calm and relaxed now that the plans for the Pass ambush were in place. He yawned, letting his head drop onto his arms in an undignified posture. He rubbed at an irritating itch on his neck and felt the cool chain of Susan's locket. He unclasped it, clutching it in his fist and savoring the comfort it brought in the form of memories.

His fist opened and he gazed at the little locket, nestled in the palm of his hand. He opened the tiny lid and discovered a black and white photograph of their father in his uniform. Edmund could scarcely remember when his father had given the special locket to Susan. They had been so young. But now, he pushed away thoughts of events in the past.

Tipping back his head, he marveled at the twinkling stars filling the skies. He knew that they were not just formations of gasses far away. Each star was a living, breathing creature, specially formed by Aslan. They were His messengers and every constellation that they formed was a retelling of His Great Story.

His eyes quickly picked out the now familiar shape of the Great Lion and the four points upon his crown. Edmund thought of Lucy's never wavering faith in Aslan and he prayed that in dark times, he too would never deny the Lion. He remembered Susan alone at Cair Paravel. Not entirely alone, part of him reminded. He knew that Cor would keep his promise and that Aravis and Corin would help him. Lastly, he pictured his magnificent elder brother. Of all that had happened, he realized that Peter would take these abrupt changes with great difficulty. He knew nothing of what had taken place beyond the door, but he prayed for the Lion's strength for his siblings.

Edmund's gaze returned to earth and he readjusted his position on the ground. He wasn't quite ready to retire for the night and something propelled him to stay. A shadow loomed over him and he glanced up to see Oreius standing beside him.

"Oreius." Edmund struggled to his feet.

"King Edmund."

"Do you come to speak to me as my general or as my friend?" Edmund asked, a slight smile flitting across his face in the dim light.

"As your friend," Oreius replied sincerely. He rarely gave long speeches full of useless words, and he knew when his king simply needed silent company.

Edmund leaned back against the tree, thankful for its firm support. For the last week, his mind had been focused solely on making it to the Pass before the Telmarines did. He had accomplished that goal and his plans were in motion. But waiting for time to pass dragged laboriously and his thoughts often drifted to the unclear future.

Oreius stood silently, alone with his own thoughts as he considered the dilemma that the young king was bravely facing. He respected King Edmund and saw it as his duty to help guide him in any way possible.

"Do you think we shall succeed tomorrow?" Edmund's voice broke into the concerned thoughts of the Centaur General.

"Undoubtedly," Oreius answered with confidence. "Do you doubt our capability?"

"No, it's just—" Edmund broke off with a sigh before he could continue. He might have been eloquent before a crowd when debating a complicated court matter, but he was tongue-tied when it came to discussing his personal thoughts and struggles.

"Your plans are created with skill," reminded Oreius. "They are not easily thwarted."

"They have failed before, Oreius," Edmund reminded. "After all, I am only an imperfect man."

A man. Oreius pondered that. To him it seemed that the dark colt was still scarcely more than a boy, struggling to shine in his brother's golden shadow. But the Centaur had to admit that he was doing as best as could be expected of anyone, even of a young king.

He clasped the young man's shoulder firmly. "Aslan will give us victory, King Edmund, I am sure." Then he paced away into the darkness.

"Thank you, Oreius," Edmund called after him. He sank to the ground against the tree once more, the damp pine needles poking into his trousers. His left hand rested on the hilt of his sword and his right hand still clutched Susan's locket that he had momentarily forgotten. He refastened it about his neck so he wouldn't lose it.

Though he could not pronounce the words as she had, Edmund recalled the strange blessing Susan had called out to him when he departed. He knew enough of the ancient tongue to translate the meaning. He whispered them to himself now, "May your heart be true when darkness falls." Then he rose to his feet and staggered wearily to bed.

* * *

Cor fingered the crumpled paper in the pocket of his trousers, rubbing his thumb over the familiar creases. In a short time, he had come to know and love every little wrinkle in the parchment. But it wasn't the letter itself that he loved most. It was the wisdom written upon them.

_I lift mine eyes unto the hills. Where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lion, the maker of heaven and earth. Trust Him, Cor, and do not forsake His ways, whatever the future may bring. – King Edmund._

"Cor?" A voice called softly. His head snapped up and he saw Aravis peeking through the door. "Can I talk to you?"

Cor frowned, momentarily forgetting about Edmund's words as he was reminded of his disagreement with Aravis. Her words hurt him. They still stung sharply. But he could not deny her the chance to right her wrong. "Yes," he answered.

"Look, Cor," Aravis began uncomfortably. "This is hard for me to do, so don't speak until I'm done. Alright?"

"Alright," Cor agreed solemnly.

Aravis took a deep breath and twisted a lock of her dark hair around her finger tightly as she tried not to look into his eyes. "Earlier, I said some things – a lot of things actually – that I know I shouldn't have. And—" She broke off and glanced up at his contorted face. "Why are you grinning so ridiculously?"

"Grinning ridiculously?" Cor hastily tried to regain his composure.

"Yes," Aravis insisted. "That silly look you assume when you know that you were right and I was wrong."

"I'm not always right," Cor reminded.

Aravis narrowed her eyes. "_Shasta_."

He bit back a reply and remained silent. He knew that when she called him his former name, she was serious, through and through. "_Tarkheena_," he shot back.

"Never mind," she muttered, turning on her heel, and darted through the doorway.

"Aravis! Come back!" Cor shouted. "I was only jesting!"

* * *

Galen peered around the edge of a massive boulder, waiting for the advancing army that had yet to be sighted. He glanced up as Redwing the Hawk swooped down to give Edmund the latest news on the Telmarines advance. Galen slunk behind the boulder again as he waited silently for the attack to begin.

Edmund conversed with the Hawk in hurried tones before Redwing soared into the sky again. Edmund nodded across the Pass to Oreius who gave a signal to three of the captains. The steady, rhythmic beat of drums reached their ears and they peered into the misty depths of the pass as they waited for the first sight of the enemy.

Galen gazed at the plain spreading out from the entrance to the Pass. Very soon, the first of the Telmarine scouts would appear over the horizon. Then the action would begin. Galen smiled grimly and loosened his sword in its sheath. He was eager to draw his blade, even though Edmund's plans called for capture and disarmament rather than death and grievances.

His eyes focused on the rise of the hill as the first of the scouts hurried into sight. The sound of the drums was still faint and Galen knew that the scouts  
rode at least a mile ahead of the main body of the army. The horses flew up the slope but at the entrance to the Pass, the riders were forced to dismount so they could scale the steep walls of either side of the gorge.

Galen's hand tightened around the hilt of his sword as he lurked in the shadows of the great boulder, waiting for the first adventurous scout to come near enough. Sliding rock was heard as the Telmarines scrambled up the crumbling surface. Galen waited for his chance to leap upon them and his adrenaline began to pound steadily in his chest.

Closer and closer. He could see the groping fingers now as the Telmarine scout pulled his body up after himself. Galen prepared to spring. The muscles in his arms tightened and silently he threw his weight upon the Telmarine who was taken aback in complete surprise. Before the scout could utter a cry to alarm the others, Galen had pulled him behind the rock, still struggling and fighting, and knocked him on the head with the hilt of his sword. The man fell limply to the ground, still and silent, but not dead.

Galen was satisfied to see that the other Narnians around him had gagged and bound five more in the addition to the several that Oreius's men no doubt held hostage. A particularly gruff-looking Dwarf slunk towards Galen to take the unconscious scout to a holding place with the others.

"Do you need assistance, Ai' atar?" Galen whispered, using a respectful name as he considered the age of the Dwarf.

The Dwarf shot him a pointed glare. "I'll take no flattery from you." Galen opened his mouth in astonishment but the Dwarf wasn't finished speaking. "Tis neither the right time nor the right place." With that, he seized the hands of the Telmarine scout and quietly dragged him away.


	12. Surrender or Die

**Author's note:** Hello! I'm back with another chapter. It went quicker than I thought, but the scenes took longer than I originally planned. And guess who is back… Enjoy!

**Edit 4/28/13: **I rewrote this chapter, making some changes and additions.

* * *

**Chapter Twelve – Surrender or Die**

"At present," the Captain of the Guard explained to Susan as they walked upon the pebbled paths in the blooming gardens, "the trained force stationed here – they number about two hundred – should be able to hold the city against smaller attacks, and if the men of the city are called upon and the numbers swell to at least four hundred, we could very well withstand the threat of a much larger force. Provisions are being carefully stored away in case of a siege."

"How long could we hold out during a siege?" Susan inquired, thinking of dark days.

The Captain hesitated, running the numbers through his mind. "We should be able to hold out at least two months, but that all depends on the war machines the enemy use and also the number of their force. Outnumbering them could be dangerous since it would force us to use more rations." He paused. "Sieges are always full of risks. You never can tell the outcome. You simply have to prepare for the worst."

Susan nodded as she ducked past a low branch. "Please continue your regular report."

"Now, King Edmund has seen wisdom in requiring the two outposts guarding the entrance of the harbor to be manned continuously in case of an assault from the sea." He glanced at Susan's troubled face, framed against the light pink blossoms of the short cherry trees and added quickly, "But that is highly unlikely, unless they made a terrible deal with the Calormenes."

"What kind of deal?" Susan asked as she thought of their ancient lust for Narnia. The Captain remained silent. He knew that it was unlikely that the Calormenes sought Narnia itself since the Telmarines were invading. But perhaps a certain prince wished to reclaim a most precious jewel that had nearly been his.

The Captain shuddered at the terrible thought. He could not answer his queen truthfully. Thankfully, he was saved from explanation as loud voices rose over the wall of the training court several feet away from where they walked.

"I say, Cor! Watch your footing!"

Susan's head snapped up as she caught sound of the familiar voices bickering. A quick smile returned to her face. She turned to the Captain. "If you are finished, will you kindly excuse me?"

"Of course, your majesty," he answered as he bowed. "That is all." He could not blame her. The last two months had been rough on her and she deserved a break from the worrisome possibilities of an attack on the Cair. He smiled a little as she quickly hurried to reach the practice court where Cor and Corin's voices resounded.

Susan made her way through the shrubs onto the rough cobblestones. She paused to watch as Cor stumbled clumsily over his footwork again.

"Let's face it," he announced as he stopped to catch his breath, clutching his side. "I'll never be nimble enough. The sword isn't the right weapon for me."

Corin swiftly glanced at Susan as he caught sight of her. "Maybe Queen Susan could show you how to handle a bow?" he suggested.

"Would you mind, Queen Susan?" Cor asked timidly.

She glanced up and smiled graciously at him. "No, of course not, Cor. I'll fetch a bow. I could use some practice."

* * *

Edmund glanced around as the Telmarine army began to slowly pass below him. The advance guard of twenty horsemen and thirty footmen had already moved ahead. The main body followed behind, marching in three sections each consisting of one hundred men. After them, he could just make out the golden crests on the helmets of King Caspian and his general. Another body of twenty horsemen trotted warily behind, forming the king's personal guard. Trailing behind them, Edmund knew that three hundred more soldiers marched. His scouts had reported this to him earlier as well as the estimated number of about forty horsemen forming the rearguard. The left and right wings of the flank guard, numbering about sixty, rode back and forth on their horses, raking the cliffs with their sharp eyes.

Edmund looked over his shoulder, making sure that the soldiers under his order kept away from the edge and out of sight. Like the Telmarines, Edmund had divided the Narnians into sections of one hundred and twenty infantry; two on either side of the pass, one at the mouth where the blockade stood, and two groups of sixty waiting to close in the Telmarine's rearguard from behind. The numerous trees clinging to the rocky mountain served as scouts for the Narnians along with several species of birds. With the exception of Oreius who stood beside Edmund, the centaurs had been divided between the front and rear guard since they had been unable to scale the cliffs of the pass.

Edmund surveyed the arrangements with approval. Soon it would be time for the plan to go into action. His hand rested firmly on the hilt of his sword as he waited to draw it. Only a few more feet around the bend and the advance guard would realize that their way was blockaded and held by the Narnian army.

Edmund turned his head as a low whistle reached his ears. The signal from the scouts had come. It was time. His sword slid out of the sheath with a hiss and Edmund raised it above his head. Only the blade catching the light of the sun showed from the outcropping of rock Edmund hid in. A giant, joined by the centaur rearguard, elevated himself to his feet, towering over the Telmarine rearguard and nearest soldier. The horses shifted uneasily as their riders whirled around. The rest of the body of Telmarines slowly turned around as they heard the commotion and cowered in fear as they realized that they were trapped.

At Edmund's signal, the giant swung his club against the boulders gathered for the purpose of closing in the enemy. The last way of escape would soon disappear. The rocks began to tumble down as a few of the foot soldiers broke rank and rushed to their death under the crushing weight of the boulders. At the loud, insistent orders of their captains and king, the Telmarines reformed their ranks and waited for the Narnians to charge them. They silently agreed to face defeat and death bravely. They would fight, even if they couldn't win.

But the exchange of blows never came. Edmund scrambled from hiding and stood in full view of the Telmarines. His cape billowed regally behind him as he solemnly addressed them.

"King Caspian! You are surrounded. There is no escape." He gestured to the rocky slopes. "You cannot run. You cannot fight. And if you do, you cannot win."

The captains instantly began shouting back defiantly and arguing amongst themselves. However, their leader held up his hand and all was quiet.

"Come down, King Edmund," he called. "Come down and speak to me as one man speaks to another. I guarantee your safety while you are in our midst."

"It is not wise to listen to his taunts and offers," Oreius advised.

"You are right," Edmund agreed as he glanced towards the Centaur. "However, I can think of no other way to reason with them." He beckoned to Silverfang the Wolf, who followed him diligently.

Accustomed to the ancient regulations of parleys, Edmund handed his sword in its sheath to Oreius. Likewise, the Telmarine leaders did the same, handing their swords to their companions. At a subtle signal, Edmund began to descend the slope, followed closely by Silverfang the Wolf scout.

Edmund scrambled between the rocks, his spaulders jarring his shoulders, but he still managed to retain his regal air. Silverfang leaped gracefully after him. Oreius looked down, watching for any sign of treachery from the trapped soldiers. The muscles in his arm strained as he gripped his sword tightly in case he needed to use it.

Edmund approached the shifting Telmarine commanders who were huddled in a group, discussing matters. The man whom Edmund had assumed from a distance was King Caspian stepped forward.

"King Edmund."

As he heard the voice, his eyes narrowed in recognition. "Ambassador Luzan."

He harshly chuckled as he lifted the visor of his helmet and brushed a loose strand of hair from his forehead.

Edmund glanced around uncomfortably. "Well," he began. "You are surrounded, yet you have called a parley. What do you have to say?"

The Telmarine smirked, his teeth flashing white against his tanned skin. "Many words I have to say, King Edmund, and you would be wise to listen to them."

"Speak then," Edmund commanded, his eyes restlessly wandering the crowd, watching for any sign of danger.

"King Caspian regrets that he is unable to be here to speak with you face to face—"

"Why has he not come himself like a true king?" Edmund interrupted.

"Are you truly blind to the principles of other rulers?" Luzan scoffed. "Only the kings of Narnia ride into battle at the head of their forces. A very foolish idea, if I may be so bold."

"You may not," Edmund growled. "And why would King Caspian send a mere ambassador in his stead?"

Luzan clicked his tongue in disapproving fashion. "I am no mere ambassador, naïve King. I am Prince Luzan, cousin to his magnificent majesty the King of Telmar," he responded.

Edmund frowned slightly at the use of the word magnificent. In his mind, only two things deserved that title; his brother and Aslan. But he ignored the irritation and focused on the problem at hand.

"Ah, but we did not come here for idle talk," Prince Luzan continued. "You have surrounded us by fair maneuvers. You talk of surrender which I will gladly accept. Simply turn over your land and you are free to go."

"I spoke of your surrender to us." Edmund forced himself to speak civilly. He wasn't going to let the prince get under his skin. "I offer you your lives, if you will only lay down your weapons and return to Telmar peacefully. We do not want war. We only fight for our freedom and the cause that we believe most steadfastly in."

"In our land," Prince Luzan began as he paced in a circle around Edmund, who stood rigid in the center. "We have one rule in our code of honor. Return victorious, or never return."

Edmund raised an eyebrow, but kept his thoughts to himself. The Prince continued to speak of the Telmarines' ways, but Edmund was watching a cluster of archers just beyond them who seemed to be loading their crossbows. He realized that the Prince was simply stalling and that something was amiss.

He snuck a look over his shoulder, wishing that he could somehow give Oreius some kind of warning. But Prince Luzan's eyes seemed to never leave him. Edmund was no longer listening to the Telmarine. Instead, his hand was itching for his sword and his breathing became irregular. How long until they struck?

He assumed that he had only a few moments to find the answer. Within seconds they would break the parley and he could be lying on the ground with an arrow "accidentally" shot through him, or perhaps he would be impaled upon a silver blade. He wasn't afraid. But he desperately hoped that Oreius's sharp eyes would catch the warning signs.

Suddenly, he heard a twang and a hiss and he dropped to the ground as an arrow sailed past. He scrambled to his feet and began to dash back to the mountain, but Prince Luzan was close upon his heels.

Oreius had been watching carefully, and the instant that the intended-fatal crossbow was level, he sent Narnians scuttling down the slope to the aid of their king. They slid down the steep incline, shields head over their heads to protect them from arrows. Three Centaur archers near the General, placed arrows to their strings and prepared to let fly the instant that King Edmund was safe.

Edmund scrambled to safety with no great difficulty, protected by the few creatures that Oreius had sent after him. It was apparent that the Telmarines were willing to fight their way out, rather than face surrender and humiliation. Edmund clambered to his feet, his chainmail dusty from the climb, and seized his sword from Oreius's hand. He drew it out of the sheath smoothly and raised it high for Aslan.

"Hold your lines!" Edmund shouted to his army. "Do not strike sooner than my command!" The Telmarines swarmed forward, clambering up the rocks. Edmund held his arm steady as his eyes locked on the defiant face of Prince Luzan who stood firmly in the center of the flowing mass. He tore his eyes away from the hateful face and let his arm fall.

Instantly the bows twanged and the arrows sped through the air. They fell like a hard fist upon the soldiers, many striking their targets. But Edmund was gripped with a sudden terror and feeling of failure as the Telmarines continued to force their way up. They seemed larger and more terrible than he had realized. Prince Luzan continued to smirk, his gaze never leaving Edmund, and appearing to see all the way to his core.

"Down with the traitor king!" he began to roar. "Down with his shadow of a nation!"

But the Narnians retaliated at the call and began to cry, "Fight for Aslan! Fight for His chosen king!"

Edmund pressed his lips together, refusing to answer to the Prince's mocking calls, and ignoring the outrage of his people. His jaw clenched as he wrestled with himself. Around him, the battle began to take place. Men engaged with beasts and soon all was a blurry commotion of whirling and tumbling bodies on the steep slopes of the Pass.


	13. Twist of Fate

**Edit 5/4/13: **I rewrote the first scene of this chapter so it matched up with the re-edits I made to the previous chapter.

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen – Twist of Fate**

Edmund jumped into the confusion with zeal. Parrying, thrusting, blocking; the long practiced motions came easily now in the heat of battle. He made sure to keep in motion with his comrades as they defended their foothold on either side of the Pass. Edmund paused for the briefest instant, making sure that the blockades at either end held fast. Then his arm swung again. He ducked behind his shield and threw his weight against it, knocking two Telmarines off the ledge at the same time. His sword shone scarlet as the midday sun beat down on their backs.

Defenses strong, Edmund ceased to worry about commands and focused solely on fighting. He had lost sight of Luzan, but that didn't bother him. Several minutes later, Edmund noticed that the Telmarine archers had congregated towards the centaur, a strong line of foot soldiers protecting them with their shields. The crossbows fired, dangerously accurate, and the Narnians were forced back from the edge.

Crowding together, still keeping their lines strong, they waited as the opposing soldiers gained a foothold. The creatures in front readied their pikes and others behind them picked up large stones. The projectiles were hurled down in a steady stream; some striking helmets and some flying into the gap below.

Edmund pushed his way towards the back of the struggling Narnian ranks. He spoke hurriedly to a faun, giving him a message to relay to the captain commanding the force who held the entrance of the Pass. The orders were received and immediately acted upon. Five giants loomed up from the Narnian side of the boarder and steadily advanced. With their large hands, they lifted up boulders the size of horses and sent them crashing into the ravine. Some of the rocks hit the ground with such force that they broke into several thousand chunks.

Edmund braced himself and looked away, forcing himself to retain a stony face. He had not wanted to destroy so much life. He estimated that the Telmarines had lost three hundred men by now. Their own losses numbered around two hundred. Combing both sides, nearly five hundred men would not be returning to their families and homes. The thought sickened Edmund like it always did, wondering if someday, or possibly today, he would be among them.

In the swirling confusion below him, Edmund caught sight of the young standard bearer. He felt pity for the boy who had dropped the silver raven standard to cover his ears as he heard the paralyzing screams from his countrymen who were caught underneath the larger chunks of falling rock.

Prince Luzan looked far from happy. He bellowed orders left and right, but no one seemed to be listening to him anymore. Panic infected the soldiers and they turned to flee. But there was no escape. They were trapped on four sides by rock and Edmund held all the playing cards in his hands.

Edmund raised his arm, calling back the giants. Slowly the fighting came to a halt as Edmund waited for complete attention. The Telmarines clustered together in fearful groups, waiting for the Narnians to descend from the slopes and desolate them. But instead, the Narnians stood steadfast in their places, watching their opponents carefully. The attention shifted towards Edmund. A silence fell over the battle field as men and creatures strained to hear what he would say.

"Prince Luzan," he called. "Surrender. I do not wish to spill any more innocent blood."

"I gave you my answer!" the Telmarine shouted back with a haughty glare. "We will not surrender."

Edmund clenched his jaw. "This is your last chance," he called. "Surrender yourself and your army, and you may depart in peace."

Luzan dared to laugh, before he narrowed his eyes and sneered, "You're terribly persistent."

But despite what their prince believed, the soldiers themselves began to consider the offer of surrender. A handful dared to sheath their swords and hold up their hands in a peaceful gesture. Several more tossed their swords upon the ground. Their commanders tried to prevent them, it was no use. The young standard bearer lowered the standard and from someone among their crowded ranks a white flag lifted above their heads.

The battle was over.

However, not all were happy with the outcome.

"I will not surrender," Luzan swore under his breath. "Your life is forfeit, little king. And I will see that your triumph is ended. You will pay for every single drop of Telmarine blood that was shed today."

* * *

"Hardly anyone in Anvard knows the skill of archery," Cor informed. "There aren't enough archers to make it worthwhile."

"We primarily use crossbows," Corin piped up. "When there are archers at all, that is."

Susan nodded as she strung the bow. Cor watched in fascination. He felt a little disappointed that it wasn't her bow from Father Christmas, but he hardly expected that she would let a beginner use her magical bow.

Corin watched from a distance and glanced up as Aravis appeared in one of the archways. She carried a book under one arm and she turned towards the garden, but stopped to watch Cor and Susan. Corin crossed the courtyard to her and leaned against the archway, raising an eyebrow as he watched her. Aravis ignored him and focused on the others as Susan fastened an arm guard on Cor.

"Jealous?" Corin teased.

"Jealous?" Aravis echoed, crossing her arms stubbornly as she glanced briefly at him. "Not likely, Corin Luneson."

Corin grinned. "Are you sure? You're blushing."

Aravis's hands flew to her cheeks in horror. "I am not blushing."

"Yes, you are," Corin retorted. Aravis didn't answer, but spun around and hurried away to read her book. Corin shook his head and chuckled at she flounced off, pretending to be indignant. He remained slouching against the wall as he turned his attention back to Susan and Cor.

"Alright," Susan began. She put her hands on Cor's shoulders and placed him perpendicular to the target. "Put your feet shoulder-width apart. Draw the string back to your cheek, like so." She demonstrated and Cor watched carefully. She handed him the bow and he pulled back slowly.

She gently raised his arm a little higher and helped him aim at the target twenty paces away. Corin waited for Cor to release the string, but Susan stopped him first, taking the bow from his hands.

"Cor, you need to relax," she instructed. "You're too stiff. Breath in." He did as she requested and tried to take a few deep breaths. He glanced up at her face, so concerned and caring. Yet behind her eyes, he could sense hidden unease. Being Queen of Narnia was not an easy position.

Susan returned the bow to his hands and instructed him to try again. This time he drew the bow back smoothly, catching a glimpse of the string as he held it next to his cheek. The fletching rested between his fingers and he breathed out as he released. The arrow sped through the air, plunging into the uppermost edge of the target.

Cor lowered the bow and glanced at Susan.

"Not bad," she commented. "Not bad at all. But as soon as you released, you lowered your bow. You need to hold your position until you see the arrow in the target." Cor nodded, storing away the information. "Try again," Susan instructed.

Cor placed an arrow on the string and raised the bow again. He waited several seconds as he tried to aim by squinting down the arrow shaft at the target. Then he released. This time the arrow struck the target a few inches closer to the center than the previous time. He held his stance until it was appropriate to release it.

Cor felt satisfied. He glanced at Susan, hoping for her approval. She nodded. "Much better, Cor." But before she could instruct Cor on something else to improve upon, Corin trotted nearer and spoke up.

"Queen Susan, will you demonstrate your fast firing? Please?"

She glanced over her shoulder at him. "I would have to fetch my bow from Father Christmas for that, Corin."

"Please?" Corin pleaded. "I'll even get your bow for you so you can keep working with Cor."

Her face softened into a smile. "All right, Corin. It's in my chambers, resting on the mantel above the fireplace."

Corin's face split into a grin as he dashed off. Ever since he was young, he had enjoyed watching Susan rapidly fire her arrows into a target. Corin glanced over his shoulder once and caught sight of Susan giving Cor a few more tips.

He slipped inside the large doors and entered the main part of the castle quickly. He jogged up the stairs, taking them two at a time and was soon in the southern wing where the bed chambers were. He found Queen Susan's room with ease and slowly pushed open the door before slipping inside.

Suddenly, an odd sensation filled him as he entered the room. Something felt wrong. He could feel the hairs rising on the back of his neck. He stepped forward silently, his hand reaching for the dagger at his waist. He whirled around, dagger drawn, nearly expecting to see a masked assassin behind him, but no one was there.

_I'm imagining things_, he assumed as he slid the dagger into its sheath again. _Quit scaring yourself, Corin, you fool. _

He could see Queen Susan's bow and quiver on the mantel above the marble fireplace and he hurried forward. Her ivory horn rested on a soft cushion beside the quiver. Corin reached out for the bow and quiver, and froze. He felt a prick on his back, then a sharp blade plunged into him. He cried a voiceless scream, overwhelming pain coursing through him as he tensed.

He seized Susan's horn, stumbled backwards, and fell to the floor. Darkness swam before his eyes, making it impossible to catch sight of his attacker. The blade in his back sent streaks of pain shooting through him, but he had the sense to lift the horn to his lips and blow a faint note on the horn before he pitched into blackness and oblivion.

* * *

Edmund's mouth felt dry and clammy as he finished giving orders for the disarmament of the Telmarine army. He reached for his canteen and drank thirstily, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

Commotion drew his attention to where Oreius was trying to speak with the defeated Prince Luzan. Edmund strode across the bottom of the ravine quickly. When Prince Luzan saw him, his face hardened.

Edmund addressed him. "Prince Luzan."

"King Edmund," the Telmarine answered with a sneer.

Edmund chose to ignore his sore losing and extended his open palm. "May I have your sword?" Grudgingly, Luzan handed his sword over to Edmund. He muttered a curse under his breath before stalking away to gather his commanders. He singled out one and beckoned him closer.

The Telmarine stepped neared and Luzan leaned it, whispering, "Make sure that the Narnian king does not leave this field alive."

"Y-yes, sir," stammered the commander. He stumbled off while Luzan fixed his eyes upon Edmund's relieved face.

"You were right, Oreius," Edmund commented as he glanced at Luzan who still watched him. "We did succeed."

Oreius smiled down at him. "The Lion never fails."

Edmund nodded. He glanced over his shoulder at Galen who was busy collecting weapons from the defeated Telmarines who were waiting to reform their lines after their weapons had been gathered. "Did Galen do alright?" Edmund asked Oreius. "His father hasn't let him fight alongside us for quite a while."

"Aye," Oreius agreed. "He's a fine swordsman. Strong and a little stubborn, but a fine soldier none the less." He looked over his shoulder at the young man.

"Place your weapons in the pile, sir," Galen instructed. He could easily tell that the man was one of Prince Luzan's commanders. The Telmarine captain carelessly threw his sword onto the pile with a clatter.

"And your dagger, sir," Galen added politely.

The Telmarine glanced up. He hesitated for a moment, willing himself to carry through with his prince's commands. His face twisted to portray the disgust he held for the young Narnian. "You want my dagger, lad?"

"Yes, sir, that's what I asked," Galen answered in confusion. "Would you kindly hand it over?"

"I'll give you my dagger, boy," he exclaimed, as the steely blade flashed out of its sheath before he could stop himself, "in the body of your king!"

Galen's eyes widened in horror as he realized that he was powerless to prevent the silver dagger from striking its target: King Edmund.

* * *

**Author's note: **Well, there you go. That's the "twist of fate" shall we say. What happened with Corin totally took me by surprise. But it's a good surprise. Heehee. I have greater schemes ahead! I have planned for a long time what shall happen to Edmund.

On a lighter note, thank you so much for all your reviews. "Born For This" hit 72 reviews on the last chapter! Also, nominations for the Lion Awards at The Lion's Call. com continue until March 5th. "Born For This" is eligible for the "Eustace Award" for Best Long Work in Progress, and the "Rilian Award" for Best Alternate Universe Fiction. Thank you so much!


	14. Razor Edge

**Chapter 14 – Razor Edge**

Susan glanced up. "I thought that Corin would be back by now." She tried to calculate how much time had passed since he left to fetch her bow. She assumed that it had been nearly half an hour or more.

Cor looked around as well. "Perhaps he became distracted and forgot," he suggested. "It wouldn't be the first time."

Susan smiled. "No, I suppose it wouldn't." She laughed. "Do you remember when Peter asked him to deliver a message to Lord Peridan, and Corin became completely distracted? We found him in the kitchen, eating cookies and talking with the staff!"

Cor chuckled. "I remember. And we joined right in."

Susan glanced over her shoulder at the castle doors. "Do you think that we should look for him?"

"He might be eating cookies again," Cor teased. Susan shook her head as she laughed at him. She unstrung the bow that they had been practicing and marched towards the target. She retracted the three arrows and slid them into the quiver. Setting the bow and quiver inside the armory door, Susan and Cor hurried into the castle.

"Why don't you look in the kitchen, Cor," Susan suggested, "and I will look in the library. If he isn't in either of those places, we shall look in his chambers and the stables."

"Alright," Cor agreed right away. He headed towards the kitchen while Susan went in opposite direction to the library. As soon as she opened the door, she knew Corin wouldn't be found in the room. It was far too quiet. And clean.

She looked around, searching for dusty boot prints that would lead her in the direction of the little imp. However, she found none. Though she searched behind all the shelves and under the deep chairs, she could not find Corin. Soon she gave up and went in search of Cor.

He shook his head when they met, informing her without words that Corin had not been located. Susan hesitated, trying to figure out where Corin could possibly be.

"I'll look in his room," Cor volunteered. "He might be there."

Susan nodded in agreement. "Aravis is in the garden. I will ask her if she has seen him." With that they separated. Cor hurried down the hall of the south wing in search of his brother. He tapped on the door lightly, but when no response was heard, he quietly opened it. He stepped inside cautiously.

"Corin?" he called. "Corin, are you in here?" But there was no response. The room was empty. Cor glanced around, checking behind the settee and the floor-length curtains just to make sure that his brother was hiding or waiting to startle him. At last he gave up and returned to the hallway. He waited for several minutes before Susan reappeared, still frowning.

"He wasn't in his room," Cor began.

"Aravis hasn't seen him either," Susan replied.

"Should I check the stables next?" Cor asked. "Perhaps he went exploring without informing anyone."

Susan nodded in agreement. "Let me fetch my cloak from my room and then we shall go straight to the stables." Susan turned to her right and opened the second door. She slipped inside and closed it while Cor waited outside.

Susan hurried towards the fireplace where her cloak was hanging on a hook. She smiled as she thought of it being warm since it was near the fire. But as Susan neared the fire place, she stopped in her tracks.

Her voice caught in her throat as she came across a body on her rug, and she leaned heavily against the nearest wall as she felt the air sucked from her lungs. Everything seemed to be spinning around her. "Cor." She whispered faintly, struggling to breathe. She mustered her voice and shouted, "Cor!" before passing out into a faint on the floor.

* * *

"King Edmund!" Galen shouted, stumbling forward as the knife sped towards its target. Edmund wasn't sure what was happening as he tried to turn around.

"Your majesty, look out!" The young Telmarine standard bearer threw himself at Edmund, knocking him off balance. The two crashed to the ground and Edmund covered his head that was no longer protected by his helmet. The knife whirled overhead and skidded across the trampled ground. Edmund lay panting for a moment before he scrambled to his feet.

Galen reclaimed his senses and tackled the Telmarine who had thrown the dagger. They thrashed on the ground for a few seconds before Oreius seized the Telmarine by the back of his hauberk and held him aloft. Eye blazing, Oreius glared at him for a long while before setting him on his feet and turning him over to the stout dwarf whom Galen had encountered earlier.

Meanwhile, Edmund had picked himself up and turned to help the boy to his feet.

"It seems that I owe my life to you," Edmund stated.

"No, no." The boy flushed crimson. "It was nothing. Your armor would have deflected it."

"But not without a little harm," Edmund added. "What is your name?"

"Amon, your majesty."

"Please, call me King Edmund." Edmund smiled at the boy, his dark eyes kind and friendly. He knew there was nothing to fear from the youngster. Amon nodded at his words, and would have responded but Oreius interrupted.

"King Edmund, what should be done with this man who has tried to end your life?"

Edmund pondered this. He had promised to let the Telmarines return freely and unharmed, but he had not stopped to think about an assassination attempt, planned or otherwise. At last he turned back to his general. "Summon Prince Luzan, please," Edmund commanded. "The conditions have been rearranged. I still promise the soldiers their freedom, but this man must be brought to court."

"Please, sir," Amon begged, "he's my uncle, and my mother's only source of income, besides the little I earn. Can't you pardon him?"

"Attempts on the life of the king are not offenses easily brushed aside, young one," Oreius responded as he eyed the boy warily. Edmund did not seem to notice the look. Oreius turned and paced off. Galen hurried up as the centaur searched out Prince Luzan.

"Are you sure you are fine, King Edmund?" Galen asked.

"Yes," Edmund responded. "But I would appreciate it if you don't mention this to my sister when we return." He smiled and inside his heart leaped. They had _won_ and soon they would be returning home. He knew that it would still be several weeks as they slowly returned, making sure to set spies all along the border and keep extra guards on duty, but he had not expected to win so swiftly. Yet the others did not seem surprised. They had never doubted.

He smiled again, wider and brighter this time. Galen eyed him, but didn't say anything. Just then, Oreius returned saying Prince Luzan had agreed to a court session to decide a proper verdict.

"Prince Luzan also apologizes deeply for the encounter, though I don't believe he is saying that from true sympathy," Oreius remarked.

* * *

Cor fiddled with the corner of his tunic as he waited for Susan to fetch her cloak. He was picking at the embroidery (a habit that Aravis often scolded him about) when he heard Susan shout his name. Then there came a dull thud, but Cor didn't wait for anymore sounds. He whipped the dagger out of his belt and charged into the room.

All was silent.

As he sheathed his dagger, he rushed over to Susan who was collapsed in a heap upon the floor.

"Queen Susan? Queen Susan!" He pressed his hand to her cheek in anxious concern. She stirred a little at his touch, but her eyes did not open.

Cor sat back on his heels as he wondered what caused her to pass out like she had. He glanced up and saw what his concern for Susan had hidden from him before.

All the color rushed from Cor's face. His own brother lay face downwards in front of the fireplace. A knife projected from his back and his tunic was saturated with his own blood. Suddenly, the room seemed to pitch around him and Cor stumbled forward hastily, falling to his knees beside his brother.

"Corin?" he whispered, tears threatening to come. "Corin, please say something! Corin!" Though he wanted to roll his brother over to see his pale face, Cor didn't dare. He clasped Corin's hand tightly in his own as he whispered a desperate prayer.

"Child."

It was not an unkind voice, but his head snapped back, hand flying to his dagger. Cor scanned his surroundings fearfully, expecting to see the being who had dared harm his brother. Anger took control of his senses as he demanded, "What did you do to Corin?"

"I did not harm him."

"Liar," Cor hissed, drawing his dagger. "Show yourself!"

"Do you not know My Voice?"

"I don't know you at all." Cor was completely sure that he saw someone lurking in the shadows of the draperies.

"Can you have forgotten the sound of My Voice so soon?"

"I said I don't know you!" Cor repeated, making ready to spring forward. But he had a final question to ask before he attacked. "What quarrel do you have with my brother that would cause you to murder him so?

But the Voice did not answer. He had come to offer peace and comfort, but was rejected by blindness and terror. In Cor's mind, the Voice had morphed into a hideous murderer. Cor was under the control of his fear and did not realize with whom he had been speaking.

"Cor, my child. Do not let your fear blind you to the truth." The Voice shattered the fog in his mind and Cor gasped in horror.

"A-Aslan?" His voice trembled with fear and he cowered on the floor. He could feel warm breath on his neck but didn't dare lift his head. "I'm sorry," he cried. "I didn't know it was you."

"Cor, rise up," the Lion commanded. "Do not be afraid. I will not harm you."

"But-" Cor protested. But as he stammered for excuses, still not understanding, he realized that he no longer felt Aslan's breath on his neck. He slowly sat up and realized that he was alone in the room once again.

Cor glanced over his shoulder and saw that Susan remained unconscious. Then his gaze returned to Corin. He tried not to panic as he sorted through the situation. Finally he staggered to his feet and dashed into the hall, calling for the guards.

Soon a Leopard and a Tiger nearly ran him over in their rapidness to respond. They quickly slid on their haunches to keep from knocking him down. They were obviously youngsters and quite eager for excitement.

"Kry at your service!" the Leopard exclaimed.

"Tiar at your service!" the Tiger echoed.

"Prince Cor!" the Leopard began. "What is the trouble?"

"Well…" Cor trailed off, unsure how to explain the situation without sounding like a babbling fool. He tried to start at the beginning. "I heard Queen Susan shout my name and I ran in, dagger drawn, I believe. I didn't see anyone at first, but then I saw Queen Susan on the floor. She fainted, I think, and-"

"Queen Susan fainted?!" Tiar barreled his way past Cor, bounding into the room to the assistance of his queen but stopped dead in his tracts when he saw Corin. The Tiger slowly turned around, his eyes suddenly grave and serious.

"Yes, that-that's what I was going to say next," Cor stammered, trying to hold back the tears. "And Aslan-" But once again, he was cut off.

"Kry, fetch the healers, quickly!" the Tiger commanded instantly. Without answering, the Leopard streaked out of the room and down the hall. Tiar turned to Cor. He knew a little about injuries and instantly put his knowledge to work. "Prince Cor," he instructed. "Kry will return with the healers as soon as possible, but who knows how long it's been already. You best do as I tell you. I need you to first withdraw the blade from his highness's back. Then you'll need to put pressure on it to staunch the flow of blood."

Cor quickly seized Susan's discarded cloak. He felt confident that she wouldn't mind if he ruined it for a very good reason. He hesitated to withdraw the blade. He hated the sight of blood – it made his stomach flip-flop – but he knew that it might be a little while before the healers reached Corin.

"Aslan," he whispered. "You told me to not be afraid, but I'm terrified. What should I do?" Cor glanced over his shoulder to where the Tiger was bending over Susan. Tiar did not seem to hear Cor's quiet prayer, or if he did, he made no sign of comprehension.

Cor took a deep breath. He knew better than to hesitate now.

* * *

**Author's note: **Hopefully this chapter is satisfying. I'm leaving for vacation and really wanted to get this up before I left. I haven't had much time to work on it, so it might be a little rough. Was the part with Aslan okay? I struggled with that scene the most. I may end up rewriting it when I get back. :)


	15. Tears

**Author's note: **Thanks to Psyche for some medical advice used in this first scene! :)

* * *

**Chapter 15 – Tears**

Cor slowly wrapped his fingers around the strangely-shaped hilt of the knife. He glanced at Tiar. "Are you sure this is right?"

Tiar nodded. "Quite sure. Why I can clearly remember—" He stopped.

"You aren't sure, are you?" Cor demanded, retracting his hand in sudden relief. He did not want to draw the blade out.

Tiar sighed. "Alright, we better wait for the healers." Cor instantly relaxed his back but still watched his brother anxiously. Tiar softly padded towards Susan's still form. Her eyes fluttered slightly, but she did not fully stir. Tiar returned to Cor's side and gently prodded his elbow with his head. "Help me get Queen Susan to her bed," Tiar instructed. Cor obliged and together they managed to clumsily lift her form. Cor was stronger than the Tiger and carried most of the weight himself. They set her on the bed as gently as possible.

A groan escaped Susan's lips and she slowly blinked and rubbed her eyes. "Cor?"

"Yes, I'm here," he answered, moving to where she could see him better.

"What happened?" she asked, her eyes closing again. But before Cor could answer, Tiar smoothly sided up against her, talking in hushed tones, trying to convince her to close her eyes and rest. After some protests, she finally agreed. Gradually her eyes closed and her breathing settled into a steady rhythm.

Cor quickly returned to his place beside Corin who still haven't moved. Cor crouched beside him, gently stroking the blond strands of his brother's hair. Tiar lowered himself to the rug beside the two boys, close enough for Cor to reach out and touch the silky stripes. Cor felt the tremors run through the Tiger's body, but he was not rebuked for his touch.

"Is Corin going to be alright?" Cor asked.

"Yes, Prince Cor. I am sure that your royal brother will be hale again soon," Tiar promised. He took pity on the boy whose shoulders were shaking. Cor looked up with tears shining in his eyes.

"But what if Corin doesn't make it? What if you are wrong?" The boy buried his face in his arms and muttered, "I promised Father and King Edmund that I would look after Corin. I failed them. I broke my promise."

Tiar was at a loss for words, unable to respond. Doubts and fears gnawed viciously at Cor's anxious mind. It felt like an eternity since he had first discovered his brother's state. A soft knock on the door announced the arrival of Kry and the healers.

Soon Cor was dragged to his feet and ushered out of the way as the two head physicians examined his brother. They quickly decided to move him to his own chambers. An assistant helped them carry the young boy down the hall, Cor lurking behind. One of the healers placed a hand on Cor's shoulder as they came to the doorway of Corin's room.

"You did well," he announced. "It was wise not to try to move him on your own."

"T-thank you," Cor stammered, though it didn't help him feel any better.

"Now if you will excuse me."

"Of course." Cor stepped out of the way as the healer returned to examine Corin.

* * *

Prince Luzan sat at Edmund's left at the hastily erected tables. Oreius stood near Edmund's right, his eyes alert and ever watching. Galen felt nearly like an outsider as he lurked on the outskirts of the gathering. But he was required to be present since he was a witness. Amon perched on the edge of a stool, waiting for the verdict upon his uncle. His eyes were anxious and continually flitted from Edmund's stony face to his uncle's nervous demeanor.

The trial began smoothly and continued at a fast pace. Heated debates rose from the table. Prince Luzan denied his man had done anything wrong, when he knew the truth. The witnesses steadily argued back. Dissention spiraled out of control, but Edmund, practiced as he was, soon retained it and the trial continued.

Prince Luzan slickly tried to sway the crowd again, but they knew – even the Telmarines knew – the truth. All too quickly, the chosen jury of six Narnian lords and six Telmarine officers selected their answer.

The man was guilty. There were no doubts. But as for the sentence, Edmund kept his promise to Amon and managed to alleviate it slightly. Since the man was not a Narnian citizen, they could only lightly punish him. Under Narnian law, Amon's uncle was commanded to not set foot in Narnia for two years. However, the Telmarines reserved the right to try him when they returned to Telmar.

The trial being completed, Edmund set about planning the arrangements and instructions for the Telmarines' return march. But since it was nearing evening, the Telmarines assembled a makeshift camp on the outskirts of the Narnian encampment. Edmund made sure that watchful Narnian guards were stationed all around.

Amon tagged after King Edmund, becoming his shadow as he went about his duties, until Edmund assigned Amon a job of his own; helping Galen and a few others tally the count of Telmarine weapons which had been confiscated.

"Eighty-five," Amon muttered. "Eighty-six, eighty seven." Galen tallied the numbers on a parchment as the boy counted. Amon glanced up and saw Edmund across the camp. He waved and returned to his tallying job.

A smile flickered across Edmund's face as Amon waved. Then Edmund bent his head wearily and watched the flickering flame of the torch sitting upon his makeshift desk. It was far too late to be writing, yet he knew in the next few days he would have precious little time to write his sister, informing her of all the developments.

Now that he reflected on the day, Edmund realized that it had been far easier than he had expected. Surely the Telmarines couldn't have fallen in one day! Yet he knew it had to be true. It brought a smile to his face. _Thank you, Aslan. _He rejoiced silently.

With a smile upon his face, Edmund dipped his quill into the stained inkwell and soon the scratching of the pen filled his ears.

_Dearest sister,_

_Praise the Lion for his faithfulness. Truly, his mercies are new every morning. He has granted us victory this day. Thank Cor for believing that we would succeed. The plan fell into place smoothly. It is all a flurry of excitement as I look back on it now. There were few causalities. More Telmarines were lost than Narnians. It is all over. They have surrendered and will return to Telmar shortly. I did not think it would so easily be won, but victory is ours. It will still be several weeks before I return to Cair Paravel, however. You are in my prayers constantly, Su. _

_With love,_

_Ed _

When Edmund looked up again, the sun began to slip below the horizon. Edmund stretched his arms, yawning all the while, and stopped when he noticed that Amon quietly stood in front of his desk.

"Finished already?" Edmund questioned, letting his arms return to their former position upon his desk.

Amon shook his head. "Master Galen said I could go. Told me to get some sleep."

Edmund nodded in agreement. "It has been a long day. Well, Amon, you are released from your duties for bed." He smiled and began to fold his letter to Susan. Amon still hesitated. Edmund looked up with concern. "Is something wrong?"

"No," Amon responded. "It's just that—" He broke off. Edmund waited patiently. "Well, I-I can't sleep," Amon stuttered. "I'm not tired yet. Is there anything else I can do to help?"

Edmund frowned. "Amon, please, if there is something upsetting you, you may confide in me."

"There is nothing," Amon replied, not meeting Edmund's gaze. His eyes brightened as they strayed to Edmund's sheathed sword leaning against the leg of the desk. "Could I polish your sword, perhaps?"

Edmund hesitated. Caring for his sword was a chore that he generally reserved for himself. But he saw the pleading in Amon's eyes and relented. Amon fetched a clean rag and deposited himself on a log a little distance from Edmund where he began to scrub vigorously.

Edmund returned to his papers. He wasn't sure how much time passed before he heard hooves approaching. He glanced over his shoulder as Oreius came to a halt beside him. Edmund followed Oreius's gaze to where Amon was still cleaning the sword.

"Shouldn't he be asleep?" Oreius questioned.

Edmund shook his head and shrugged. "He said he couldn't, and he still wanted something to do, so I let him polish my sword."

Oreius nodded as he watched the boy work. "There is something that I don't trust about him."

"Oh, nonsense, Oreius!" Edmund laughed quietly. "He is everything but dishonest." But something – something that Edmund couldn't put a finger on – didn't feel right about the boy. He quickly brushed aside the feeling and hoped that Oreius was wrong.

* * *

Cor fidgeted with his tunic uncomfortably, hovering as close as he dared. He was scared. Terrified described it better. He wished that Susan would wake up. He knew that she always had comforting words ready for any incident. The healer came towards him.

"Prince Cor," he began, "we have examined your brother and cleaned the wound, but it is large enough and deep enough that it requires surgery." Cor had assumed this from the start so he wasn't sure why his hands suddenly felt clammy as he clasped them. The healer continued, "Would you like to be present, or not? It is perfectly understandable if you decline."

Cor hesitated, casting a quick glance at his brother. "I-I think I'll stay."

"Are you sure, Prince Cor?

"No," Cor replied quietly.

Kindly, the healer smiled. "I think it is best if you wait outside. I do not doubt your courage, but perhaps this arrangement shall be best."

Cor nodded, feeling slightly relived, but still berating himself. The healer ushered him out of the room closed the door behind him. Cor sank to the floor, pulling his knees up to his chest. He bent his head and tried not to cry, but hot tears trickled down his freckled cheeks. Everything that had built up inside him during the last half an hour suddenly came out.

As he heard the soft rustle of long skirts, he looked up, brushing away the tears with the back of his hand. He noticed Susan coming towards him, her hair disarrayed and her blouse wrinkled. She quickened her pace and sank to her knees beside him.

"Cor? Cor, what's wrong?" she asked, her blue eyes earnest and searching. He knew that she didn't remember what had happened. He cast his eyes down and turned his head away. She cupped her hand against his cheek fondly and gently turned his head towards her again. "Cor, what happened?" she repeated.

"I-it's Corin," he finally sobbed out. "Corin's been wounded."

Susan's face displayed her open shock. Slowly the memories began to return to her. Corin. The knife. Her horn on the floor. Passing out. "Where is Corin now?" she asked quietly. Cor motioned with his head towards the door. Susan nodded in understanding. "Is the wound deep?"

"Yes, very," Cor whispered. "I'm scared for him, Queen Susan," he admitted. "We've been in scrapes before, but I've never seen Corin this-this _still._" He fumbled for the words. "What if he doesn't recover? It will be my fault. I promised Father that I would keep him safe."

"Nay, Cor," Susan chided. "It isn't your fault. You couldn't have prevented it." She internally shuddered as she wondered who had been lurking in her room, knife in hand. She knew she would have to tell Edmund, but she was thoroughly aware of what happened when either of her brothers overacted after a close call. "Cor, I know that he will be alright," she continued after a moment's thought. "And besides, I have Lucy's healing cordial. It will heal any injury." As she spoke, she gently brushed her temple and winced at the headache that still throbbed. "How long have I been unconscious?"

"I don't know," he admitted. A twinge of guilt formed inside him, despite the reassuring thought of the healing cordial. How selfish Susan must think him! He had been so upset over Corin that he had forgotten about her fall.

She seemed to sense these thoughts because she laid a hand on his arm and said, "I'm alright, really. It was just the sudden shock that caused me to faint."

He nodded. But despite berating himself, his thoughts quickly returned to his brother.

Susan understood. She knew exactly what he was experiencing. How many times in the past had she dealt with it herself? With reckless brothers like hers, it happened more often that she would like to admit. She glanced over at Cor again and this time he looked worse.

"What am I going to tell Aravis?" Cor asked, his voice filled with dread. He paled even more when he whispered, "What am I going to tell Father?"

* * *

**Author's note: **I decided to summarize the trial of Amon's uncle simply because it is not essential to the plot. What do you think of Amon? Is he trustworthy, or are Oreius's doubts true? And the question of the assassin still lingers…

On a much lighter note, I did a humorous alternate ending for Chapter 8. It's called 'Linguistics', for those of you who have not seen it yet. Happy early Palm Sunday!


	16. Suspicions

**Chapter 16 – Suspicions**

When Edmund woke the following morning, Amon eagerly greeted him, his smile rekindled for the day ahead. They exchanged greetings before Edmund made his way towards a large water barrel standing beside a tree. There he found a clay bowl and filled it with water. Rolling up the loose sleeves of his chemise, he stooped to splash the cool liquid on his face.

Amon said nothing, but simply watched from a distance. Edmund noticed the boy awkwardly standing there and requested kindly, "Will you bring me my jerkin? It's in that small chest." He motioned with his head.

"Of course." Amon dashed over to a small chest sitting beside Edmund's sleeping roll. He unfastened the catch and flung open the weightless lid. He grabbed the blue jerkin on top and stood up to deliver it, but caught sight of a piece of paper protruding from the pile. He carefully picked it up.

"Who is she?" Amon's awe-filled voice reached Edmund over the sound of the water lapping in the clay bowl. Edmund turned around, water droplets sliding down his forehead and cheeks. Amon held up the paper. Edmund knew the face. Strands of golden hair escaped her braid and a wide smile stretched to each corner of her mouth. It was a sketch of a much younger Lucy.

Suddenly, all the memories Edmund had tried so hard to move past surged in his mind again. He gingerly took the drawing from Amon, careful not to let any water fall on it.

Amon wasn't sure, but he thought he was a tear slip from the corner of Edmund's eye and slowly mingle with the other water droplets clinging to his face.

"Who is she?" Amon repeated, peering over Edmund's arm. "She's beautiful."

"Yes," Edmund agreed, though his voice sounded hollow in his own ears. "She is my sister, Queen Lucy the Valiant."

"I had a sister," Amon remarked quietly, his eyes clouded with sadness.

"What happened? Edmund asked softly, noticing the boy's use of past tense. He waited, thankful for a diversion from his own grief.

Amon unconsciously shivered. "She-she was taken."

"Taken?" Edmund frowned. "By whom?"

Amon swallowed hard. "By _them_." He turned away. "I don't want to speak about it." Though Edmund gently pressed him, Amon refused to say anymore.

_Yes,_ Edmund thought. _There certainly is a deep secret lurking here._

* * *

"What's going on?" Aravis exclaimed, happening upon Susan and Cor still waiting in the hall. Cor quickly scrambled to his feet as she drew nearer. Susan rose up as well.

"Aravis." Cor caught her hand.

"What happened?" she demanded, noticing the trails of the tears still wet on his cheeks.

"It's Corin," Susan gently began to explain. "He's been injured. There-there was as assassin in the castle." Her voice faltered as a thought rose in her mind. What if the assassin was still in the castle? What if he was waiting to strike again?

"An assassin?" Aravis exclaimed. She glanced worriedly at Cor. "Are you alright?" The boy nodded bravely. Susan could tell that he felt more upset than he was letting on. Her own brothers often used such tactics around her and Lucy.

"Where's Corin now?" questioned Aravis.

"The healers are with him now," Cor answered quietly. "They are stitching up the wound."

Aravis said nothing, but by the grimace on her face, it was obvious that she understood the gravity of the situation. The reassuring promise of the healing cordial still echoed in Susan's mind. The three waited quietly in the hall. Time trickled past, felt most keenly by Cor. Just when they began to think they could not stand the suspense, the door opened and the head physician emerged.

His short, scraggly hair and sharp, darting grey eyes gave him a hasty appearance. Over all, he was a rather unimpressive centaur. His hands that were dirty (with what, Cor didn't want to know) as he hid them behind his back.

"We are finished," he announced. "Prince Corin is a strong and healthy youth. He should be able to recover."

Susan nodded, feeling relieved that she would not need to use Lucy's healing cordial, at least for the moment.

"Prince Corin is sleeping. I would advise you not to disturb him," the healer reminded.

"But can we see him?" Cor asked, breathlessly awaiting the answer.

"If it were up to me, I would not let you," the healer retorted. "However, if you feel that you must seem him this instant, you may enter."

Cor glanced as Susan, his eyes pleading. He wanted to see Corin for himself. Susan nodded her consent. Aravis felt nearly as anxious as Cor. She couldn't understand how Cor and Susan managed to act so calm in such a situation.

Cor entered the room first, Aravis close upon his heels. Susan lingered behind a moment longer to thank the healer and ask him for a few further details.

"What are the exact complications?" Susan asked.

The centaur fiddled with his hands. "The dagger sank deep, quite deep. The prince has a punctured lung."

Susan pressed her hand to her mouth in shock. "Can you fix it?"

"I-I cannot say for certain." He hesitated. "It is possible that he might develop pneumonia. And if that happens, more than likely his lung shall collapse." He glanced through the door towards Cor. "Silly though it seems, I did not have the courage to tell his highness."

"I understand," Susan assured. "This is all so sudden and severe."

"I know." The healer nodded. "I will do all in my power to help him, but if the situation steadily declines, then I think that Queen Lucy's healing cordial will be required."

Susan nodded. "I will keep it at hand. Please, don't hesitate to let me know how things truly stand. I think that you were right to keep this from Cor." She added, "And from Aravis."

"Thank you, my Queen." The centaur bowed to her, and Susan turned towards the room. When she passed through the doorway, she saw that Cor already knelt beside the bed and gazed intently at his brother. Aravis stood a few paces away, looking very concerned.

Corin slept, looking as normally as he did every night, lying on his stomach, face turned to the side for air. But the first unusual thing Susan noted was his irregular breathing; raspy, almost painful sounding. A few tears began to trail down Cor's face again as he watched his brother.

"And to think that I'd been having a lovely time in the garden while-while this occurred!" Aravis muttered sharply to herself. "Poor Corin!" Susan put a comforting arm around the girl's thin shoulders and held her tightly, but Aravis didn't cry. However, she said no more.

"Cor?" a hoarse voice whispered.

Cor's head jerked up in surprise as the blue eyes of his brother slowly opened. "Corin!" His voice held unmistakable relief.

"Can I—" Corin broke off as he began to cough. "Can I have a drink?"

Cor glanced over his shoulder, not quite ready to leave his brother's side so soon.

"I'll get it," Susan offered, noting his gaze. She hurried away, and Cor turned back to his brother. Susan brought a glass of water and gingerly helped Corin roll to his side so he could drink. When he finished, he returned to his former position.

"I suppose you are going to question me now," Corin announced quietly, his breathing still irregular.

"No, just rest," Cor instructed. But he hesitated. "Why didn't you call for help? I'm sure that one of the guards would have heard you."

Corin looked up in disbelief. "But I-I blew Queen Susan's horn! Didn't you hear it?"

Susan shook her head.

"I think-I think I did," Aravis admitted. "But I just brushed it aside. I didn't think anything of it. I didn't know that it was Queen Susan's horn!"

Susan frowned. "But Father Christmas promised that help would come to whoever blew it!"

"No one-no one came," Corin stammered. "Why didn't it work?"

Out of the silence that followed the question, Cor slowly raised his eyes and quietly announced, "I think—I think it did."

"Why, what do you mean, Cor?" Aravis asked in astonishment.

Cor frowned thoughtfully. This thought had been troubling him ever since Corin revealed he had blown the horn. Cor struggled to explain. "After Queen Susan fainted, I sat beside Corin, and I heard a Voice. At first I thought it had to be the assassin, waiting to strike another person. But it wasn't. It was Aslan."

"You're sure?" Susan asked.

Cor nodded. "I saw Him."

"Do you think He came because I blew the horn?" Corin asked.

"I don't know," Cor replied, chewing his lip. "Maybe…" But he didn't finish his thought.

* * *

"Boy!" The hiss drew his attention towards the bushes. Amon slowly trotted towards them, glancing over his shoulders to see if anyone watched him.

"Yes?" Amon whispered back.

A head emerged from brush and Amon took a step back, almost as if he recognized this man. "Hello, Amon." His smile seemed to glint in the sunlight, and Amon swallowed hard, his hands trembling at his sides. "You thought you wouldn't see me again, didn't you?" laughed the man.

Amon didn't move or answer, his heart pounding rapidly in his chest.

"Now, Amon, you know I don't want to harm you," he continued. "But our master grows impatient. Time is running out!" the Telmarine warned. "You know what happens if you fail."

Eyes blazing, Amon seized the man's forearm tightly. "Don't you dare lay a finger on my sister!"

The man wrenched his arm from Amon's grip. "You better succeed," he threatened in a low voice before slipping into the bushes again.

Amon's heart speed slowly began to decrease. He realized that he suddenly felt light-headed. He sank to the ground, leaning against a tree. But soon he leaped to his feet again as a grim centaur stared down at him.

"Amon, lad, are you alright?" Oreius asked.

"Y-yes," Amon stammered nervously.

"I thought I heard someone threatening you."

"N-no, sir," Amon lied. Blood pounded in his ears. How much had Oreius overheard? If he knew, it would cost them everything.

"If something was wrong, you would tell King Edmund or I, wouldn't you?" Oreius asked. "We will help all we can."

"I don't need help." Amon scowled. _You can't help me, and even if you could, if you knew what I had to do, you wouldn't help me._

"Very well," Oreius replied, his deep gaze lingering on the dirty face of the boy. Slowly, he turned and began pacing away.

Amon tried to shake himself from the trance but to no avail. He groaned. Why did this have to be so hard? He wished that King Edmund wasn't such a kind person. But there was no room for wishful thoughts. _No_, Amon hardened his resolve. He had to do this. It was the only way to save his sister.

"I promised," he whispered, hoping that the reminder would force him to act. But the sketch of Lucy flashed before Amon's eyes. How sad she would be when she learned of her brother's – no. He couldn't afford to think that way. He had to do this for his sister and his mother. Another unwanted thought rose in his mind. Would they be proud? He hardened himself against the thought. Of course they would be!

He pushed all thoughts aside and craned his neck, searching for Edmund. He took his time hurrying forward, trying to appear casual. At last he spotted Edmund, who looked as if he slept with his back against a tree. Amon softly approached. A smile spread across his face when he realized that Edmund indeed slept.

Amon turned on his heel and strode swiftly towards the area where he had slept the previous night. He took the blanket from his pack that leaned against the tree. He tucked it under one arm and returned to where Edmund napped. Amon reached down to seize Edmund's sword.

But a strong hand flashed out and caught his wrist, refusing to release. "Amon? What are you doing?"

Amon glanced up with terrified eyes into the stern face of Oreius.

"N-nothing," Amon lied, inwardly cursing himself for his cowardice.

"Nothing?" the Centaur questioned.

Amon fumbled for the blanket. "I was simply going to cover him up."

Oreius's dark eyes flickered towards Amon's other hand that clasped Edmund's sword. "What were you doing with his sword?"

"Moving it out of the way!" Amon snapped, shrugging off the grasp of the centaur. "Why don't you trust me? Just because I am a Telmarine doesn't mean that I am not trustworthy!"

"I never said you weren't," Oreius answered, eyebrows raised at the lad's strange behavior.

Amon sighed angrily, eyes flashing. He played his part well. Too well. He continued, trying to confuse Oreius even more. "I should have listened to Uncle. He said that Narnians were simply suspicious, selfish, and wild beasts."

Neither Centaur nor boy noticed that Edmund had opened his eyes, and listened intently to the argument. Edmund felt puzzled and genuinely confused to say the least. This wasn't the same Amon that had admired his sister only an hour or so previous. Something or someone had upset the boy, and Edmund felt determined to solve the mystery.

Oreius seemed a monster to Amon as he reacted to the boy's careless words about himself and his countrymen. "Narnians_ are_ beasts. Talking Beasts, created after the image of Aslan himself!"

This was too much for Amon to handle. He knew that there was no use fighting. It was time to leave. But then that little pang of guilt enveloped him again, and he almost wanted to blurt out the truth.

Amon looked ready to stomp off, so Edmund scrambled to his feet and seized Amon's shoulders. "Amon! What's wrong? What's going on?"

"Let go," Amon hissed, twisting away. "I thought we were friends. Friends don't accuse each other of these things." He let out a harsh laugh, but inside he was choking on tears. "Now, I know I was wrong." He turned on his heel and dashed away, careful to hide the tears threatening to stream down his cheeks.

Edmund glanced at Oreius. "What was that for?"

"I am sorry, King Edmund," Oreius replied quietly. "But it was for your own good."

"My own good?" Edmund derided. "What about Amon? You've hurt his feelings deeply."

Oreius shook his head. "This is what I mean. He had fooled you completely and you are blind to his malice."

"Oreius, how can you still mistrust Amon?" Edmund demanded. "He has done nothing but help us, and all you repay him with is doubt?" Edmund sighed and softened his tone. "Oreius, I appreciate your protection, but all the boy was trying to do was bring me a blanket."

Oreius chose to remain silent. He knew it was no use arguing with the king. Edmund was blind to the tool the Telmarines would certainly use against him. He knew that Amon was simply a way to cause Edmund to lower his guard. But Oreius wasn't going to let anything happen to his king, even if it meant momentarily hurting him.

* * *

**Author's note: **Happy Easter! Christ has risen!

Well, I'm back. Did you miss me at all? ;) Thank you, Psyche, for helping me work out a few medical developments! What did you think about the chapter? I'm looking forward to hearing your thoughts! :D


	17. Net of Lies

**Chapter 17 – Net of Lies**

Susan fingered the diamond vial in her hand. One drop of the scarlet liquid could cure any injury. It would be a powerful weapon if it ever fell into the hands of the enemy. Susan had reached the decision to place the cordial in the care of the head healer. She was afraid that Corin would need it and the cordial would be hidden deep in the treasure room where they would be unable to access it quickly enough. She didn't think that it would be safe in her room if an assassin had been able to sneak in. Besides, if the healer had it, he could use it immediately if Corin required it. Yes, Susan felt sure that this would be the best arrangement.

Hands trembling and a voice in her head questioning her judgment, Susan stepped into the infirmary. She could see the centaur healer bending over, giving an injured dwarf a draught. Susan patiently waited for him to finish. The centaur wiped his hands on his apron and approached her.

"Can I do anything for you, Queen Susan?" he questioned.

"Master Taurin, I-" Susan hesitated. "I have Lucy's healing cordial, and I want you to keep it on hand in case Prince Corin should need it. Please, do not let it out of your sight. You know very well what would happen should it fall into the hands of our enemies."

"It would be very dangerous indeed, my Queen," Taurin replied as he slowly reached to take the vial. Susan hesitated and explained all her reasons before slowly relinquishing her grasp on the cordial. She turned to leave, but stopped.

"Master Taurin?" She pivoted on her heel to face him. "Corin seems better today. He sat up and spoke with his brother for a long while. He didn't seem tired."

The centaur rubbed his temples with his thumbs. "That is good. But do not let him over stress himself. He may feel up to it, but if he is to recover fully, he needs to continue to rest." Taurin continued, "I will come check on him in a little while and change the bandage. The stitches still looked puckered this morning." Before stitching the wound, he cleaned it as best as he could, but he was still afraid that it would get infected. And if pneumonia came sweeping down on top of that, it could very well kill the lad. If his lung didn't collapse first, Taurin added silently.

"Thank you for all that you have done." Susan smiled faintly, oblivious to the inside concerns of the healer. She glanced around, suddenly recalling something, "Oh, I nearly forgot! The captain of the guard wished to speak with you. He's waiting for you on the western veranda."

"I shall be with him shortly," Taurin replied, turning away with the cordial clutched in his hand. Susan soon disappeared in the hallway. Taurin crossed the room to a little wooden cabinet hanging from the wall. He slipped a key off the top and unlocked it. The small door swung open and he placed the cordial on one of the three shelves inside, beside several other important antidotes. Then he closed the door again and relocked it before slipping the key into the pocked of his vest.

Taurin turned around to catch the wild-haired dwarf watching him. Taurin eyed him suspiciously. "What business do you have watching me?"

The dwarf ignored his question. "Ye shouldnae lie to the Queen about a weapon like that cordial," he scolded from his place on the cot. "Not when ye know it shan't be safe. Besides, what kind of foul things do ye have on yer mind?"

"Pff!" Taurin snorted. "Won't be safe? Foul things? Are you slipping into one of your delusions again? And what would you know anyway?"

"I may be from way up north, but I ken a thing or two about deceiving," he answered. "Yer lying to the Queen. Ye have foul schemes in mind. Yer friend over there," he gestured with his head towards a dark-skinned man leaning against the wall. "He's up to no good and I shouldnae wonder if he was the one who stabbed the wee prince!"

Taurin's eyes flickered to the man, lingering there longer than necessary. Taurin turned back to the dwarf and glared at him. "He is no friend of mine. I did not even notice him until now."

The dwarf chuckled. "Tis no use to hide yer sins when I know. Donnae worry about me. I'll not tattle." He laughed again, but this time it turned into a cough that racked his entire frame. "Yer secret will die with me soon," he whispered.

Grinding his teeth, Taurin turned away in disgust. He was loyal to the crown of Narnia. How dare the dwarf, who was mad for all he knew, insult him like that! Anger threatening to erupt inside him, Taurin marched up to the stranger who slouched coolly against the wall. "What do you want?" he barked.

"I wish a word with you," the man replied.

"Well, I am not dealing with strangers currently," Taurin exclaimed. "The captain of the guard is waiting for me, and I have no time. Be gone with you at once!" The man bowed his head and stepped backwards, watching as Taurin left the room.

* * *

Edmund's hand rested on the hilt of his sword as he patiently listened to Prince Luzan's petition to remain another night in Narnia. He spoke with truth (the first Edmund had ever heard from his lips) and Edmund was forced to admit that Prince Luzan was right. It would be best if the Telmarines remained another night before they set out on their long return trek through the mountainous land to their capitol.

While the Telmarines prepared for their return trip, the Narnians too were looking forward to returning to their homes. More and more often, Edmund's thoughts returned to his home by the sea and the sister and dear friends who awaited him there.

But now, he shook his head clear of the memories and strolled through the camp. He had instructed one of the Narnian lords to see if it would be possible to bring the Telmarines and Narnians together for some sparring matches and other games to break the tension. His plan seemed to be working since he could hear loud cheering and the sounds of clashing swords echoing from the direction that he was headed in.

Increasing his stride, Edmund soon came to a circle formed by closely packed soldiers cheering for their comrades. Several of the Narnians parted their ranks to let him through so he could see what was happening.

A friendly duel unfolded before his eyes and Edmund felt pleased to see the two nations getting along. It was now obvious to him that only the leaders of the Telmarines were hostile to Narnians. The common Telmarine didn't not care.

The two swordsmen continued to parry and attack as the sun began to sink along the western horizon. Edmund clapped proudly as the match came to an end. Apparently the two groups expected another match to take place and the Narnians began to chant the name of their king and champion. Smiling embarrassedly, Edmund loosened his sword in his sheath and stepped onto the marked out area.

The winner of the previous match, a broad shouldered, wide smiling man, met him near the center. He inclined his head. "Your majesty, it is an honor to fight against such a renowned swordsman like yourself."

"Thank you," Edmund replied. "You fight with great skill. I should nearly think that you are better than I." The Telmarine didn't have an answer for the kind praise. Edmund drew his sword and took his place.

But before the duel could begin, Amon burst through the crowd, shouting at the top of his lungs. "King Edmund! The camp—it—it's on fire!"

* * *

Night came and Aravis couldn't sleep. She twisted around, trying to find a comfortable position, but she couldn't relax. Something was wrong and she knew it. Her senses were sharp in the dark as she threw off the covers. She found her dress discarded on the chair before the fire. She wiggled into it, only loosely tying the laces. Her hair hung haphazardly around her face and shoulders. She stepped out of her room, a stub of a candle in her hand as she tiptoed down the hall. She didn't stop to think about where she was going, she simply went.

Voices ahead alerted her to the presence of other creatures and she quickly extinguished her candle. She did not understand the urgent need for secrecy that overwhelmed her, but she kept quiet. The voices were soft but distinct, traveling around the corner from a spare sitting room. A crack of light strayed out from beneath the closed door and Aravis crept towards it, keeping in the shadows.

"…but the boy! You were supposed to get the Queen!"

"I know, I know!"

Aravis knew this exclamation came from no Narnian. It could only be…

"It was clever of you to not use a Calormene blade and now the Captain of the Guard suspects the Telmarines," informed the first voice.

A short chortle of laugher came. "They'll never know who took their precious healing cordial."

Yes, Aravis recognized the Calormene accent, and not only that, but his voice as well. She listened, heart pounding in her chest. They were going to steal the healing cordial!

"Here's the key to the cabinet. Only the dwarf saw it locked away. You'll find it with ease," the first voice continued.

Aravis realized now that she was terrified. But she had to tell someone before it was too late. She backed away as she heard the men rising to their feet. The door handle rattled and she turned and ran down the hall, her bare feet making only a soft slapping noise. She glanced over her shoulder as light spread into the hall as the door opened. She quickly stood against the wall, hoping that they hadn't caught sight of her.

When she saw them leave, Aravis continued down the hall to Cor's room. She knocked softly on his door, waiting for him to answer. Shifting her weight nervously, Aravis wished that Cor wasn't such a deep sleeper. She waited several minutes before trying again. At last she heard him stumbling around in the dark.

"Cor!" Aravis hissed. "It's me!" She could hear him muttering under his breath as he fumbled with the latch in the dark.

"Aravis-"

She barreled past him and quickly shut the door. "Cor, they're trying to take the healing cordial. We have to stop them," she blurted out. Cor's eyes widened in shock. He tried stammering a response but Aravis cut him off. "And it-it's my father who is trying to do it."

* * *

"King Edmund!" Amon shouted. "The camp—it—it's on fire!"

Sure enough, smoke rose in a grey column from the far side of camp. The smell of burning wood soon filled their nostrils. The crowd stood frozen for several seconds before Edmund leaped into motion.

Quickly slamming his sword into its sheath, he barked out orders. The Narnians ran towards the fire while the Telmarines seemed to slink into the shadows of the tall pine trees. The water barrels stood in the center of the encampment and to this spot the Narnians rushed. They formed a line, passing buckets of water through their ranks towards the fire that quickly spread. The flames hissed and twisted under the water, but where one section finally extinguished another would spring up to take its place.

The dry pine needles blanketing the ground provided excellent fuel and soon the Narnians could barely keep up with the blazing inferno as it spread from tent to tent, licking up every burnable substance. The popping of the sap from the pine wood echoed around the clearing as Edmund reached for another bucket. He tossed the water onto a tongue of fire that climbed up the legs of a chair. Near the foremost leg, he caught sight of something shining.

Pouring the last few drops from his bucket onto it, Edmund's hand quickly darted into the flames and snatched it up. Turning the item over his in hand, he hesitated for a few brief seconds, discovering that the item was a gold signet ring. He dropped it into his pocket and reached for the next bucket passed to him.

Edmund tried to douse the flames, but now the chair was completely swallowed up. He straightened his back, glancing around. He knew now that it was no coincidence that the fire continued to spring up. Someone had to be lighting them. The flames leaped high, most of the camp already in ashes as they spread to the trees. Shrieks began to resound as the dryads felt the scorching heat.

The fires flamed into an intentional ring around the Narnians who always kept the water barrels at their backs. Edmund knew that someone was responsible to this and he needed to stop them. Instantly the Telmarines, who were nowhere in sight, came to his mind, but Edmund figured that more than likely, they would be able to prove their innocence. No, it had to be planned secretly and known by only a few. Perhaps it was even done by the innocent.

Suddenly all the warnings Oreius gave him came flooding back, and with a very reluctant heart, Edmund knew that he had to confront Amon.

* * *

**Author's note: **Well, that was a rather intense chapter. What did you think? Also, I'm going to be on vacation for just shy of two weeks, so you won't hear from me for a bit. Mwahahaha, yes, I know I'm leaving you at an exciting point, but would you rather be stuck here, or not have anything? ;) See you when I get back!

P.S. I am working on redoing Chapters 11 through 13 and making changes to Ambassador/Prince Luzan's character. I do not like the way he turned out in those chapters, so in the future if you notice changes in his behavior/character/manner of speech, this is why. I'll let you know when I complete the changes to those chapters if you would like to reread them. Thank you!


	18. Father and Daughter

**Chapter Eighteen – Father and Daughter**

"And it-it's my father who is trying to do it," Aravis blurted out.

Cor stared at her incredulously. "Aravis?"

She knew that look. "I am telling the truth!" she exclaimed fiercely. "Just believe me for once!"

"Perhaps you were dreaming," Cor suggested.

"It was no dream!" Aravis cried. "I heard them talking in the far sitting room – the little one that no one uses. They're going to take the cordial! And it's _my father_!"

"Aravis, enough," Cor replied, a little too sternly. "Go back to bed."

Aravis's fierce glare made him take a small step back. "I am no liar, _Shasta_."

Cor ignored her use of his former name. "Aravis, enough. We can talk about this in the morning." She continued to protest, but he took her arm and firmly escorted her to her own room. He made sure she stepped inside and closed the door after her. Now hopefully she would return to bed and this would all blow over.

Aravis's thoughts, however, were far from returning to bed. She hastily found her shoes and slipped them on as she tied her cloak around her shoulders. She knew it was no dream. She had to let someone know, but who? If Cor didn't believe her, then who would? She knew that Corin would believe her, but he couldn't do anything with his injuries. Queen Susan would probably send her back to bed. The guards would scoff at her.

She would just have to somehow stop them herself! But now that the idea crossed her mind, Aravis felt a little afraid. What if her father saw her and dragged her off to Calormen with him? That was the last place she wanted to return to.

Aravis hardened her resolve and started out of her room, slipping towards the little sitting room. She hoped that they were still there. Soft voices confirmed her hope. She sided up against the door, pressing her ear to the wood, hoping to catch snatches of their conversation. Disappointment filled her as she couldn't make out any proper words. There was a lot of shuffling and Aravis turned to back away as footsteps approached the door. But she wasn't quick enough and a pool of golden light engulfed her. She froze as solid hands seized her shoulders, turning her towards the light. She ducked her head, hoping she wouldn't be recognized. Her hope soon shattered as another figure stepped out of the doorway.

"Aravis, dear!"

"F-father?" Aravis stammered as she was pulled into a crushing embrace, away from the first set of hands that had seized her.

"My, how you've grown my little lotus blossom!" He tweaked the end of her nose fondly, looking her up and down before squeezing her tightly again. "Ah, we've missed you so much."

"Wouldn't you have missed me if I had married the Grand Vizier?" Aravis demanded.

"Of course, dear," he answered smoothly. "But your step-mother and I were doing it for your own good. We only want the best for our little girl."

_Liar_, Aravis thought darkly. _You don't care about me at all._

"We were worried sick after you disappeared—"

Aravis cut him off. "I ran away."

"We looked for you for weeks!" He continued as if he never heard her. "It nearly broke our hearts. Think of how relieved I was to hear that you were safe in Archenland. And the ward of King Lune himself! Well!" He patted her shoulder. "But now the inexorable Tash has brought us together again." Her father continued to ramble quietly, while Aravis frowned darkly, trying to think of how she could get away. She hoped that Cor knew that she wouldn't have stayed in her room.

Her father squeezed her again. "We'll leave for Calormen right away!"

"Shouldn't we wait until the morning?" Aravis protested. "Besides, Queen Susan has been so kind to me. Shouldn't you wish to stay and thank her?"

"I would, lotus, but we must be going right away," he answered. "Come now. Be the good little tarkheena that you always are."

Aravis nearly laughed aloud at the absurdity of the statement. Good little tarkheena? When had she ever not caused her father grief? Not wishing to alarm him, Aravis didn't resist and took his arm. But inside, she was already plotting her escape. She would not be taken back to Calormen and to the life she had tried so hard to get away from!

Her father patted her hand. "It will be good to have you with us again. We've missed you so much." Aravis wanted to snort and laugh at him, but something about his voice seemed sincere. Perhaps he had missed her. _No._ She tossed the thought aside. He didn't care. But the little doubt, the little tiny hope that he told the truth festered at the back of her mind.

Her father jerked his head at the other Calormene who slunk towards the door and peered into the darkness beyond the circle of light radiating from the doorway. He turned around. "There is someone in the hall."

"Then take care of him, Del'eb." Her father said this with a careless laugh but Aravis knew what he meant. Her father pulled her back inside the room, extinguishing the light. Del'eb slipped into the shadow beside the doorframe, his hand on the dirk at his side. He peered into the hall again, his eyes quickly adjusting to the darkness.

"It's the Archen Prince," he hissed.

_Cor! No!_ Aravis nearly groaned aloud. She should have known that he would follow her. But now she needed to warm him. Subtly, her hand slipped from her father's arm. She waited as she heard Cor's footsteps approaching. She jumped forward, intending to rush into the hall to warn Cor. But her father caught her arm and pulled her back, holding her tightly against him and covering her mouth with his hand. Aravis struggled.

"Hush, lotus," he whispered. "Do you want the Prince to catch us?" Aravis didn't bother to answer, but she wanted to shout yes at the top of her lungs. But she could only stand helpless as Del'eb slid the knife from its sheath. In complete oblivion, Cor began to call softly to her. Her father's grasp over her mouth tightened. Aravis knew that she couldn't just stand there while Del'eb injured or perhaps killed her best friend.

Quickly, Aravis made up her mind. She lifted her left foot and slammed her full weight onto her father's curled-toe shoe. His grip over her mouth loosened enough for Aravis to open her jaw. She bit his finger and he released her mouth, though he kept a tight grip around her small waist. "Cor!" she shouted. "Go back! Go back!" She could see his shadow freeze in front of the moonlit window in the hall, unsure what she meant.

"That's right," her father whispered in her ear. "Tell his highness to go back where he belongs."

"Please, Cor," Aravis pleaded. "Go back to your room."

"Aravis, I-I don't understand," he protested.

_Curse your streak of curiosity!_ Aravis thought angrily. "Just do it!" Slowly Cor's shadow began to back away and with every step Aravis found herself wishing that he would stop and refuse. She had been brave enough to warn him, but not ask him for help. No, it was better to keep him out of it, she strongly reminded herself.

Her father slowly released his grip around her waist, but kept a hold of her hand. Aravis lowered her head. There was no going back now. No sudden rescue at the last minute. Cor would listen to her, she knew. Cor wasn't going to help. Her father led her through the door into the hall. Del'eb brought up the rear, watching over his shoulder for any sign of the prince. Aravis trudged down the hall, wondering why there were no guards on duty. She asked her father but he gave no answer. Aravis assumed that Del'eb had probably drugged them or knocked them unconscious.

They made it through the castle without being spotted. They primarily slipped down unused halls and through little doors that hardly anyone knew existed. Aravis wondered if Edmund knew about them since he seemed the kind of person who would know about such things. They stepped into the moonlit courtyard, keeping in the shadows and headed for the gardens. They passed through the gardens, making for the southern wall that encircled the castle grounds.

Hidden behind a trellis of vines, Aravis saw a small door. Del'eb tugged on the handle and it swung open on creaky hinges. Aravis's father ushered her through and they stood on the edge of the water canal that flowed through the city. Several feet away, a bridge spanned the gap and they hurried toward it. Aravis had assumed that they would cross it and make their way through the city, but when they neared the bridge, Del'eb stopped.

"We can't let her know the way," he cautioned as he dug around in his satchel. At last he produced a length of burlap. Being a little claustrophobic, Aravis squirmed when he tried to tie it over her eyes.

"Hold still, girl," Del'eb hissed under his breath as he knotted it tightly. "There. Can you see anything?"

Aravis bit her lip and shook her head. She could see only a sliver of moonlight through the blindfold, but she wasn't going to tell him that. Her father led her forward, making sure she didn't stumble over her own feet. After a few minutes, she began to notice that the sound of the water flowing in the channel had faded.

"There are steps here," her father cautioned and slowly Aravis began to feel her way down them. She wasn't sure how long they continued down the stairs. She stumbled several times, misjudging the distance from one to another. At last the stairs ceased and they walked along an uneven path for close to ten minutes. Then there were more stairs, this time leading upwards. At last they leveled off and the threesome halted.

Aravis waited impatiently as her father struggled to undo the knot of the blindfold. It slipped off and she looked around. They stood surrounded by tall trees and Aravis peered in the direction which they had come from. She could see the caps of the towers of the castle looming against the sky that was now tinted pink with the coming dawn. She looked for the route by which they had come but couldn't find it.

"We shall stop here for a little while," her father announced.

"We should press on," argued Del'eb, glancing in the direction of the castle.

Her father stretched. "Ah, I am weary and these old bones of mine require rest. Did not the prophets say that rest is the sweet honey sauce of labor?" He sat down heavily on a pile of leaves, making himself comfortable with his back against a thick tree. Aravis quietly took a seat on the ground, pulling her cloak around her shoulders. Del'eb stationed himself several feet away, peering back into the darkness towards the watch lights flickering on top of the castle towers. Aravis followed his gaze, wondering how long it would be until someone realized that she was missing.

Soon the sound of her father's snores echoed in her ears. Aravis stretched, trying to figure out how she could escape. She knew it wouldn't be easy to elude Del'eb's sharp eyes. She shifted, the leaves underneath her rustling. Del'eb glanced over his shoulder at her, his face half hidden behind his hooded cloak.

"So you had the audacity to run away from your family?" he asked.

She rose to her feet, moving around a large stump that stood waist high and stood near him. "I had the courage to escape from a potential marriage to the Grand Vizier."

"Most Tarkheenas would be greatly honored," Del'eb answered.

"I am not an ordinary Tarkheena," Aravis replied.

"No," he agreed as he looked down at her. "You certainly are not."

Feeling uncomfortable under his gaze, Aravis endeavored to shift the conversation. "I thought you came to get the healing cordial," she remarked. "I changed your plans."

"Yes," he agreed. "But I think you will be useful." His greedy eyes gleamed at her from underneath his dark hood. Aravis internally shuddered, hating the way he stared at her. She began to inch away when their attention suddenly directed itself towards movement in the bushes.

"Down!" Del'eb hissed, sending Aravis stumbling for the nearby cover of the stump. Del'eb waited, hand on his dirk, until the bushes parted and a short figure, wheezing terribly, dragged himself towards the waiting Calormene by the aid of a thick staff. With widened eyes, Aravis now realized that he was a dwarf.

"You're late," Del'eb announced irritably when he recognized the dwarf.

"I couldnae get away from that healer sooner," the dwarf replied crossly. "He's got himself eyes on the back of his head, that one!"

"I suppose you have it?" Del'eb questioned, extending his hand and forgetting completely about Aravis's peering eyes.

"Aye, aye," grumbled the dwarf. "It's here, and a might of trouble it has been." He handed over a small bundle to the Calormene.

Del'eb took it and released a short laugh. "I thought I would have to send that fat Tarkaan in to distract them so I could get the cordial from you." He gestured towards the sleeping form of Aravis's father. "We were delayed. He accidentally met his daughter who had been spying on us." He glanced around. "Where is that girl?"

* * *

**Author's note: **So…you might be wondering…what happened to Edmund?! No, he hasn't been burnt to a crisp…yet, though I bet Luzan wishes that he had. But, this chapter has been one entire scene and there was no good place to cut it. So I decided to just focus on Aravis for this chapter. You'll hear a lot more about Edmund, Oreius, and Amon in the next chapter. And Susan, Cor, and Corin. ;) I'm looking forward to hearing your thoughts about this chapter.

Oh, one last thing! I added a brand new scene that picks up at the end of Chapter 10 and continues through the first part of Chapter 11. I realized that when Corin accidentally lets the horses out, I never resolved that problem. Then I rewrote Chapter 12, improving the first part of the battle and I'm working on revision on Chapter 13. So I've been busy! :D


	19. Moonlight Escapades

**Chapter Nineteen - Moonlight Escapades **

Edmund stepped back from the flames, his face and arms red from the exposure to the heat. He slipped the signet ring into his pocket. He glanced around for Oreius and ran towards him, empty water bucket still in hand.

"Oreius!" he shouted over the roar of the flames. "Where's Amon?"

Oreius paused for a second. "I haven't seen the boy."

Edmund leaned towards the fires as another bucked was handed to him. He poured out of the contents. "I'm going to find him," he informed Oreius. The Centaur replied with a curt nod. Edmund passed the bucket back to be refilled and darted away, hurrying towards the last place he had seen Amon.

He arrived at the place where Amon had first announced the news of a fire. The boy was nowhere in sight. Edmund sprinted towards the clearing where the Telmarines had pitched their camp, some fifty yards away. He caught glimpses of their tents and morning cooking fires still smoldering through the trees before he burst into the center.

The loud cry of a hawk came from overhead and Edmund froze in complete shock as he took in the scene before him.

Deserted. The Telmarines had deserted their camp.

As the shock wore off, Edmund tried to figure out their strategy. Someone had started the fire as a diversion. While the Narnians had been busy fighting the fires, the Telmarines had slipped off, leaving unnecessary belongings behind. But where were they headed?

Going home was the most ridiculous assumption, he knew. From the first, Edmund had recognized Luzan as a scheming man, but he never thought that after surrender the Telmarines would still try to take Narnia.

Their most likely course would be to follow the river, heading for Cair Paravel. Along the way they would stop to conquer cities such as Beruna. It would be no hard task for them. They could pillage farms, taking the supplies they needed as they traveled along the sturdy roads that Edmund himself had overseen built. It would be nearly impossible to overtake them.

Unless, unless… Edmund racked his brain, thoughts tumbling over and over. He shook his head, trying to clear his brain of the confusion raging inside. He needed to tell Oreius. There was nothing they could really do about it at the moment since the fires still needed to be extinguished. Edmund ran in the direction that he had come from, halting as he recognized a figure running in the opposite direction.

"Amon!" he called. The boy froze in his tracks, slowly looking towards him. Edmund hastened forward, fishing in his pocked for the signet ring. As he reached Amon, he held it up. "Is this yours or do you know who it belongs to?"

Amon snatched it from his hand. "It was my father's." Suddenly his expression looked suspicious. "Where did you find it?"

"I found it on the ground, in our camp, while I was trying to put out the fires," Edmund explained. Amon visibly stiffened. "Amon, please listen," Edmund implored. "I'm not accusing you of starting the fire, but will you please tell me what happened if you know?"

"It wasn't me," Amon stated plainly and he bolted.

"Amon!" Edmund shouted. If the boy was innocent, he shouldn't have bolted. As much as he hated to suspect Amon, Edmund knew he had to until they had proof that either confirmed the suspicion, or proof that pointed to someone else.

Edmund hurried to follow Amon who rushed towards the Telmarine camp. Edmund wondered if Amon knew that the rest of his group had left him behind. The boy skidded to a halt, staring in disbelief at the deserted campsite.

"They left me behind," he muttered.

"I'll help you find them," Edmund offered, laying a hand on his shoulder.

"I don't want your help!" Amon exclaimed, shrugging Edmund's hand off and sprinting forward to follow the trail his countrymen had left behind. He rushed onto the pathway of broken brambles diving into the forest.

Edmund snuck a quick look over his shoulder to discover that the fires were still raging and spreading out in all directions. All the plants and leaves were so dry that they simply shriveled up in the flames. Ahead of him, Amon had swerved off the path to take what he hoped was a short cut. Edmund plunged into the brambles after Amon, escaping from the choking fumes of the burning campsite behind them.

"Amon!" Edmund called. "Please wait!" He waded farther into the bushes, catching a glimpse of the boy's auburn hair. Thorn bushes tore at his sleeves and trousers. Why couldn't Amon have stayed on the pathway, he wondered. He lost sight of Amon but continued wading through the undergrowth, following the trail of broken branches and trampled briars Amon left behind.

Amon raced on ahead, his heart pounding furiously in his chest. Twice he paused, gasping for air as he looked back, trying to force himself to turn back and face Edmund. Three words pounded continuously in his head. _It wasn't me!_ But every time he caught sight of Edmund through the wild brush, Amon hastened on again, twisting and winding until he no longer knew in what direction he was headed.

Edmund ducked under a low hanging branch as he stooped and noticed how soft the ground was. It had either rained here recently or they were nearing a steady supply of water. He hoped it was the latter. Unlike Amon, Edmund had a better sense of direction and he supposed that they truly weren't too far from their campsite. The trees were so tall overhead that he couldn't see the smoke of the fires to confirm this though.

Starting forward again, Edmund could make out the distinct footprints that Amon left behind, but there were other fainter prints, like someone else had used this "path" before.

Edmund slowed his pace, inspecting the environment around him, noticing small notches in the tree bark, or oddly bent branches. These were all signs; signs of something. He wasn't sure what these signs meant, but he was sure that he would know it when he found it.

"Amon!" he called again, noting how the boy's footprints suddenly veered left. He followed.

Suddenly, there came a great snap, like the sound of a monster's iron teeth gnashing together, and Edmund screamed a voiceless cry of agony.

Amon heard the snap.

He glanced back, seeing with horror what had befallen the king. And he fled.

Amon ran from the scene, tears already streaming down his face. He ran. He ran and did not care where he went. Stumbling, crying, and hating himself, he flung his body down beside the trunk of a tree and began to sob because it was all his fault. It was his fault the camp was burning. It was his fault that Edmund lay injured and possibly dying. It was his fault that he didn't have the courage or strength to help the only person who had tried to befriend him.

Amon did not know how long he lay there. But slowly his tears thinned and he pushed himself up, looking around. Night threatened the forest with its presence and Amon shivered. He was lost. He had no idea how far or how long he had run. He had woven in circles trying to lose Edmund. Now that the king was lost, Amon didn't know how to return.

He swallowed, realizing how parched his throat was. He needed to find water. He was hungry as well, but being unfamiliar with the forest, he didn't want to eat anything in case it was poisonous. Slowly, Amon got to his feet, brushing soft mud off his trousers and tunic. He immediately realized that he was no longer alone.

* * *

A soft beam of moonlight shone through the curtains that moved with the lazy breeze drifting into the second floor bedchamber. Tucked in bed, Corin lay still on his stomach, listening to the crickets chirp in the garden. He longed to wiggle about but he didn't dare.

His chest hurt more than the actual incision. He had described the feeling to Cor, saying that it felt like an elephant stood on his chest, forcing all the breath out of his lungs. It hurt and Corin was bored. He had been still too long. He wanted to move, to dance about under the open skies. He coughed, pain encircling his chest and lungs. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes.

"Why Aslan?" he whispered inaudibly. "Why me?" He wished it hadn't happened, but at the same time something deep within him felt glad that it had been him. Better him than Queen Susan, Corin reminded himself.

Corin shifted to his side slowly, noticing that he was alone in the room. The curtains moved again as the breeze tried to bring relief to Corin who suffered from a fever. He was tired, very tired, but unable to sleep. Earlier in the night, he had slipped between feverish dreams where everything seemed to be trying to suffocate him. He had woken with a start. But even strange dreams evaded him now. Once or twice he thought he heard faint voices – one sounding like Aravis - but he was sure it was just his overactive imagination. Overtaken by a sudden bout of chills, Corin reached for his blanket, his hands shaking.

The breeze caused the curtains to flap open once more. One of the pieces of material caught on the hook used to pull them back in the day time. The moonlight streamed into the room, falling on Corin's face. For a few minutes, he tried ignoring the light, but found it useless. He struggled into a sitting position, something he had been able to manage the past few days, though he had never been allowed up for long. His head spun at the sudden elevation and it was a moment before he was able to see clearly.

He swung his legs over the side of the bed and slowly rose to his feet, leaning against the wall, not trusting his strength. He moved laboriously towards the window. He reached for the curtain, but stopped half way as his eyes caught a spark of light from the gardens below his window. When he looked again, he couldn't see anything but waited patiently. The flash came again, near the wall. Squinting, he thought he could make out two or three figures. Corin watched as the light flickered out again and then reappeared on the other side of the wall. He frowned in surprise.

The recollection of the hushed voices in the hall earlier reentered his mind and slowly he tried to figure out all that had happened without his knowledge. He had not understood the words whispered in passing, put slowly his mind began to piece things together. The voices in the hall…the light in the garden…they had to be connected.

Feeling as if he couldn't breathe, Corin was forced to return to his bed. He rested for several minutes, air slowly returning to his lungs, before he rose to his feet. He knew he shouldn't be out of bed, but he wanted to know if anyone else had noticed. If they hadn't, he thought that he should probably tell someone – anyone – that there had been people going through the garden wall. He thought he would tell one of the guards, but when he stepped out of his room he could see none in sight.

_That's strange_, Corin thought. Aravis's room was adjacent to his so he knocked on her door. He leaned against the wall, the familiar burning cough forcing air out of his lungs as he waited for Aravis to answer. A minute passed and Aravis didn't answer. Corin knocked again, louder this time. Another minute dragged by and still no answer came. He slid to the floor, feeling the exhaustion wearing at him.

He could feel something else too. Yesterday – or was it the day before, Corin wondered – Taurin the Healer had warned him that infection had set in. Corin had been expecting the news. All along he had thought that he would steadily get worse and right before he was ready to die, he would drink a sip of healing cordial and he would be perfectly normal again. Just like in the stories. But now he suddenly wondered if it would all be different. Once he overheard Taurin and Susan talking. They had assumed that he was sleeping and openly discussed the likely possibility of Corin's lung collapsing since it had been punctured.

In the dark of the hall, Corin subconsciously moved his hand to rest of his left lung. He struggled for air more now than he ever had during the course of the days since his injury. Corin shook his head. There was no room for thinking morbid thoughts and of dying wishes.

Aravis still hadn't answered and Corin forced himself to his feet. He turned the handle and the door swung open. He stepped into the room and saw to his surprise that it was completely empty. He took a step backwards, trying to figure out what was going on. Aravis. Had she been one of the figures he had seen from his window? Had that been her hushed voice outside his room?

Corin turned and staggered towards Cor's room across the hall, three doors down. His head began to spin again. His chest burned with the exertion but he reached Cor's door and sank down beside it. He waited for Cor to answer his knock, all the while feeling lightheaded. At last the door open, warm candlelight spilling out and Cor started in surprise.

"Corin!" he exclaimed. "Why, you-you shouldn't be up and what—" He cut himself off when he saw the pained expression on his brother's face.

"I-it's Aravis," Corin panted. "Sh-she's gone."

"Can you explain?" Cor asked, taken by surprise, but not from the news about Aravis.

"I saw…from th-the window," Corin continued slowly, his head spinning as he gripped the doorframe to keep from toppling over. "There w-were three…f-figures. I went…to ask…Ar-Aravis if she…had seen them. And sh-she was…g-gone."

_They're trying to take the healing cordial." _Aravis's words echoed in Cor's mind. _"And it-it's my father who is trying to do it."_ He exhaled in disbelief. She had told the truth. Part of his mind corrected him. He had known all along that she was telling the truth. He just hadn't wanted to believe it, even when he had followed her. He had been too willing to return when she told him to.

"Cor?" Corin asked, his voice wavering. Cor slowly directed his gaze towards him, his mind still reeling. "I don't…f-feel so g-good," Corin moaned. Cor knelt down as Corin's thin frame shook with coughs.

"You shouldn't be out of bed," Cor scolded. "Master Taurin will have a fit. Come on, I'll help you back." He slipped his arm under his brother to support him, and suddenly Corin's body went limp.

* * *

Aravis didn't wait to hear more. This was her chance to sneak away. She assumed that Del'eb would be too immersed in his conversation to notice her creeping away. She slipped into the shadows of the trees as softly as possible. She picked her skirt up so it wouldn't drag on the ground and softly stepped between the piles of dew-covered leaves and fallen branches. The waking sun turned the horizon shades of pink and purple as she walked, now able to see what lay ahead of her.

She began to pick up her pace as the distance between herself and her captors increased. She moved north from the place where they had stopped for a rest, but now she turned east, keeping the towers of the castle directly ahead of her. The shadows danced between the oak and maple trees, concealing Aravis's darting shape. Her cloak caught on a thorn bush and she stopped to untangle it as well as catch her breath. Soon she moved on, picking her way through the clusters of scrubs.

Soon she halted as she heard someone crashing through the underbrush after her and she increased her pace, tripping over the ferns and branches scattered in her path. The ground began to slope downwards as she ran and she could barely make out the joyful trickle of water in a rocky creek bed. She rushed towards it, still knowing that she was followed. She snuck a look over her shoulder and lost her footing as the ground suddenly dropped away. Momentum threw her forwards and she tumbled down the rocky slope.

She tried to grab some of the rocks and roots that she rolled past, but every time her fingers slipped. At last she rolled to a stop, one arm flung into the cold water of the creek. For several minutes she didn't move except to extracted her arm from the icy water. Tears welded up in her eyes as every muscle in her body ached. She knew that there would be countless scrapes and scratches covering her.

The sound of sliding rocks startled her but she didn't move. She could hear Calormene curses being muttered and she knew that it was Del'eb who slid down the slope. She didn't even try to get up to flee. She turned her head as she heard him approach.

"Don't get up," he cautioned.

"I wasn't going to," Aravis snapped.

"I was just—" He started but cut himself off. "Never mind. Can you feel your fingers?"

Aravis wiggled them. "Yes."

"What about your toes?"

She wiggled them as well. "Yes."

"Good," he stated. "I don't think that anything is broken." He reached into his satchel that he had brought with.

"What are you doing?" Aravis demanded suspiciously. Del'eb didn't answer. He extracted a small bundle and slowly unwrapped it. Even though it hurt, Aravis eased herself up on her elbows to see better. She gasped. "The healing cordial? You have it?"

Del'eb smiled as he looked down at the vial which fit in the palm of his hand rather nicely. He gentle traced the design on the front, ignoring the lion-headed stopper. He glanced up at Aravis where scratches ran across her face from her tumble. He looked back at the cordial. He unscrewed the stopper, holding the vial towards Aravis.

"No!" Aravis exclaimed. "I'm not going to waste a drop of the cordial on mere scratches. Put it away."

Del'eb shook his head. "No, I want to know for certain that it works. Besides," he added, glancing up at the rock-scattered slopes rising up on either side of them. "It will make it much easier for you to climb out."

When she saw that she could not dissuade him, Aravis reluctantly agreed to take a sip. She opened her mouth and a tiny scarlet drop fell onto her tongue, bursting into sweet flavor.

* * *

**Author's note: **Well, this was a much longer chapter than normal. ;) But you got to check in with Edmund, Oreius, and Amon, Corin and Cor, and lastly Aravis and Del'eb. What did you think of the chapter? Favorite part? Something I could change?


	20. When Life Brings Pain

**Chapter Twenty – When Life Brings Pain**

* * *

Edmund's hand groped for anything to pry open the iron vice clamped on his lower leg. The pain caused his vision to blur and he fought to keep his consciousness. Several minutes lapsed and he tried sitting up, but his swirling vision forced him down again. From the position he was in, he couldn't reach the iron thing. He wiggled around, gasping in pain as he jolted his leg, but succeeded in getting a hold on the piece of iron. He had no idea how to get it off. He had never seen one in his life, but something, some tiny memory from his life before the wardrobe, jiggled at the back of his mind.

Edmund frowned in frustration, and set his jaw to keep the pain of the throbbing wound at bay. Stretching out his arms, he cautiously pulled himself forward, dragging himself towards the nearest tree. When he reached the oak tree, he wrapped his arms around the trunk and struggled to pull himself up. At last he made it into a sitting position with his back against the trunk.

Now Edmund could see that the iron thing was some kind of animal trap. Anger boiled up inside him. His anger came from a deep concern for his people. Who would dare set such cruel traps? Not only was it a horrible way to snare non-talking animals, but what about the talking ones?

"Telmarines," Edmund spit out darkly. He bent over his leg, trying to force the trap open. The sharp teeth only dug deeper. There had to be some kind of release. He felt around the edges but couldn't find anything.

Low thunder rumbled nearby and a splattering rain began to fall. Edmund closed his eyes. _Of course it has to rain,_ he grumbled. Thunder clapped overhead again echoing Edmund's distress. Edmund nearly laughed aloud at the thought. _What an ungrateful king I am! I complain because it begins to rain, yet it is the same rain that will extinguish the fires and save my people._

He raised his head, letting the cold drops like tears fall on his face. They plastered his hair to his forehead and ran down his tunic in steady streams, soaking him to the skin.

"Oh, Aslan, I am sorry," Edmund announced. "After all You do, I am still an ungrateful wretch."

* * *

Slowly, Amon got to his feet, brushing soft mud off his trousers and tunic. He immediately realized that he was no longer alone. Amon whirled around as a man stepped out of the bushes. Amon stepped back, recognizing the face with dreaded. It had haunted his past, and when he finally thought he was safe, it turned up to haunt him in the midst of the Narnian camp. Amon was surprised, and yet not surprised that the man turned up again here.

The man smiled. "So we meet again, Amon. I've been looking for you."

"Leave me alone," Amon growled, looking away from the face towards the grey skies.

"But I can't," he answered. "Our master wishes to see you."

Amon's heartbeat quickened. "About what? I finished the task he gave me."

"But have you?" the man questioned. "What proof can you offer that you have befriended the Narnian King?"

"You saw," Amon answered. "I know you saw." He glanced around as thunder clapped and rain began to fall.

"But our master didn't," the man replied, pulling his hooded cloak over his head. "How can you prove it to him?" Amon frowned, folding his arms in front of his chest to keep the rain off. "See," concluded the man, "you can't. How sad. And you actually thought that you could gain your freedom." He turned, starting towards the bushes.

"Wait!" Amon held up his hand. "I don't know if this will prove it, but I can tell you where King Edmund is," Amon offered desperately.

"Oh? And where is he?"

"He-he—" Amon stammered as rainwater slowly traced its way down his cheeks. "He was following me, and then I heard this awful snap. He screamed, and I am sure that he didn't follow me here."

"A snap?" the Telmarine leaned closer, his nose protruding from under his dark hood. "Where did this happen?"

"I was running, and I-I'm not sure where it happened," Amon faltered, clutching his arms to his thin body to keep warm.

"I thought as much, pretty, little liar," laughed the man. "I should have expected that from a slave."

"I'm not a slave!" Amon shouted as he clenched his fists.

"You are a slave and always will be if you can't obey your master!" shouted the man as he lunged forward, seizing Amon's wrists. Amon struggled, but the man was stronger and held on firmly.

"I did what I was told, and you know it!" Amon cried. "Please," he sobbed, his tears mixing with the rainwater, "please let me and my sister go."

"No!" the man answered, sharply twisting the boy's arms behind his back. "You didn't—" A wet twig snapped, and the Telmarine broke off, looking around with sudden fear. Amon hopefully watched the bushes, hardly daring to dream that help would emerge from the shadows. "It was nothing," the man decided after a moment. But then another snap sounded. This time it seemed on purpose.

Amon saw a flash of silver in the shadows before the bushes parted in front of the flying hooves of a sword-wielding centaur. The Telmarine man stumbled backwards, releasing his grip on Amon, and fleeing as fast as he could. Amon jumped out of the way, dashing through the mud for the nearest tree but caught his foot on a protruding root and fell to the ground. Mud clung to his face as he lifted his head slightly. He was already wet to the skin and the mud couldn't make it any worse. He closed his eyes, teeth chattering as rainwater continued to slide down his face and arms.

"Telmarines," the centaur muttered in disgust as he sheathed his sword. Amon recognized his voice instantly, but didn't move. Of all of the people to find him, it had to be Oreius. Amon suddenly wished that he was a worm. All that the Telmarine had taunted him about disappeared as Amon remembered Edmund's scream in the woods. Did Oreius know? And if he didn't, how could Amon tell him?

"Amon, lad, won't you tell me what is going on?" Oreius requested. Amon felt the centaur's strong, yet wet hands grip his forearms, pulling him to his feet, but Amon couldn't look into his face.

"I-I can't," Amon sobbed. "You would hate me. King Edmund would hate me. I'm such a _coward_."

"I have seen the lies that torment you, young one. It's time to let go. The truth will set you free," Oreius declared, his face still set hard despite the cold rain. "Tell me all."

Amon swallowed hard. "I can't tell."

"But you must," Oreius insisted.

"I can't!" Amon protested. "I don't know where to start."

"On the day of the battle, why did you choose to push King Edmund out of the way of the knife?" Oreius questioned.

"Wouldn't you have done the same?" Amon answered boldly, raising his head and tossing his wet hair out of his face.

"Aye, young one," Oreius replied quietly. "I would have. But you are a Telmarine. Your people have no love for us."

Amon sighed and chewed his lip. "I had a deal, a sort of wager," he admitted as Oreius raised an eyebrow. "It was foolish. I should have known better." He scuffed the toe of his boot in the mud, not daring to meet Oreius's eyes. "That man, well, it was his master actually, who promised me my freedom, and that of my sister's, if only I could earn King Edmund's trust. I would never harm anyone, I swear!"

"That will be determined at another time," Oreius remarked. "However, there is more to the story that you are not telling me. Tell me all."

Amon shrunk back from the centaur, clenching his jaw stubbornly. "I can't. It-it—" He hesitated. He wasn't going to admit to the centaur that it hurt. Hurt was a sign of weakness!

"Amon, for your sake and for King Edmund's, please tell me what happened," Oreius entreated.

"I can't," Amon protested, looking away, his shoulders shaking with cold.

Oreius tried to prompt him further, ignoring the way the boy's lips were turning blue. "That time when I caught you meddling with King Edmund's sword, yet you claimed you were simply covering him up; what were you doing?"

"I-I just wanted to hold his sword again," Amon admitted slowly. "When he let me clean it there was something – something almost magical about it. The way it shone in the sunset and that beautiful lion face engraved on the blade." Amon lifted his head and for an instant Oreius saw a golden spark of light in the boy's grey eyes.

Oreius started. "Lion face?"

"Have you not seen it?" Amon questioned, the flicker of light glowing brighter in his eyes. "It's the most beautiful thing I have ever seen."

"No, I have not," Oreius remarked quietly as he looked away and pondered the information. When he gazed at Amon again, the spark of light had disappeared, and he saw only a chattering, wet boy, broken by despair. "But Amon, why would you make a wager to earn your freedom?" Oreius questioned.

"Because," Amon spat out, "I hate being owned by someone else." He lifted his chin defiantly. "I am my own master." He lowered his chin. "But I wanted my sister's freedom more. She deserves better."

Oreius nodded slowly. "But if you are a slave—"

"I am not a slave!" Amon exclaimed. "My father, he-he gambled away our money and was unable to pay his debt. My sister and I were taken as payment, but I am not a slave, no matter how they treat me."

"But how did you come to march with the army?" Oreius asked.

"That was my uncle's doing," Amon answered, folding his arms across his chest. "He thought he could help me escape if I received permission from the master to join the army. He persuaded the master that I could be of use. Of course, that's where the wager came in because it was the only way I could help my sister. I was a fool to accept." Amon hung his head, the cold rainwater sliding down the back of his neck. "I suppose I have told you my entire story now. Uncle always said I had a big mouth."

Oreius smiled. "You were reluctant to divulge information at first."

"You have way of weaseling it out," Amon remarked. "But I think you are right about telling the truth. I do feel better." _But I haven't told you all_, Amon thought sadly. _Somehow I have to tell you about King Edmund._

"There is only one question I have yet to ask," Oreius continued, oblivious to Amon's thoughts, and unwisely ignoring the wet state that the boy was in. "Who started the fire?"

* * *

Cor slipped his arm under his brother to support him, and suddenly Corin's body went limp. Cor gasped in alarm, quickly lowering Corin's form to the floor again. He panicked and a minute lapsed before he was in control of his mind again. Steadying himself, Cor quickly checked Corin's breathing. He was breathing, quick and shallow, but breathing at least.

Cor sat back on his heels, clutching his brother's hands tightly before letting them drop. "I'll be right back, Corin. I promise." He rose to his feet and ran down the hall. The doorways and bright tapestries blurred as he flew past; he focused solely on reaching the infirmary. He stumbled as he reached a flight of stairs, losing his balance for a few seconds as he lunged forward. He reached the bottom safely, however, and continued to run. The morning sun streamed through the windows high overhead as he crossed the central area of the castle. He made a sharp about-turn and passed through a doorway next to the stairs. Beyond the doorway, he rushed down another hall until at last he reached the infirmary.

One of the assistant healers was in the hall and Cor blurted out the situation. The assistant instantly went to fetch the head healer. Cor clutched his side, panting with exertion as he sagged against the wall. He had barely regained his breath when the assistant returned with Taurin, the head healer.

"Lead the way, your highness," Taurin instructed. Cor started forward, and Taurin and his assistant followed, their long strides forcing Cor to jog to keep ahead. They reached the stairs and the centaur healers climbed up, taking them three at a time. Cor gained the top last, but lead them on. They turned the corner and hurried down the long hall. When they reached Corin, another figure already bent over him.

"Queen Susan!" Cor exclaimed.

She glanced up, her dark hair hiding part of her face. "What happened, Cor?" she asked. She stood up, stepping away from Corin as the healers inspected him.

"He knocked on my door," Cor explained. "He said that—" He broke off. "Aravis! I forgot about Aravis!"

"What?" Susan questioned in confusion.

"Have you seen Aravis?" Cor asked. "Anywhere?"

"Well, no, not since last night," Susan replied. "Why?"

Cor ran a hand through his hair. "Last night, she knocked on my door and told me a wild tale about her father, claiming that he was going to steal the healing cordial. It was so farfetched that I thought she had simply dreamed it, and I sent her back to bed. I knew she wouldn't stay there, so several minutes later I slipped out of my room, intending to follow her wherever she went. I did so, but she called to me. I couldn't see her. She told me to go back. There was such urgency in her voice that I knew I had to listen. Now I wish I hadn't," Cor admitted. "Corin said she was gone. Someone had to have taken her. I think her story was true."

"Is that why Corin came to find you?" Susan asked.

"Yes," Cor answered.

Alarmed, Susan turned to Taurin. "Master Healer, is Lucy's cordial still in the secure place that I advised you put it?"

"I hadn't checked this morning," he confessed.

"Do so," Cor suggested.

Taurin nodded. "First let us move Prince Corin to his chambers." With his assistant helping, Taurin carried Corin to his room. Susan pulled up a chair beside the bed, while Cor took a seat on the bed beside the still form of his brother. Taurin quickly dashed down the hall and the loud sound of his hooves echoed back to the occupants of the room where Corin lay.

Several moments passed in awful silence. Cor's attention had returned to his brother. Susan pressed her hand to Corin's forehead, feeling for a fever. Sharp heat met her touch and she drew back in surprise. Cor acknowledged the gesture with a quick nod.

"Corin," Susan whispered. "Corin?" But he didn't stir.

Hoof beats were heard again and Taurin returned to the room. "It-it's gone!" he stammered. "It was there last night. I locked it in the cabinet and double checked. Then I put the key in my pocket. I have it now." He held up the key as proof.

Cor's head drooped, and Susan felt her heart reach out to the boy.

"Maybe the lock was forced?" Taurin's assistant suggested.

"It didn't appear to be tampered with," Taurin answered.

"It really doesn't matter how someone managed to steal it," Susan cut in. "What matters is the fact that Corin needs it."

"You are right, my queen," Taurin agreed. "I apologize most sincerely for losing it."

"It was not your fault, Master Taurin," Susan responded. "But please, do whatever is in your power to help the boy."

Taurin busied himself with checking over Corin. With a frown stamped on his face, he listened to the boy's haggard breathing. He didn't speak, lips pressed hard together, as he motioned his assistant nearer. The assistant must have understood Taurin's silent request because he handed the healer a salve.

Cor hardly seem to notice this as he stared blankly towards his brother. His hands lay loosely in his lap, and he didn't move. Susan watched the healer work, her eyes following his large brown hands. At last Taurin straightened his back, quietly avoiding looking at either Cor or Susan.

"How long does he have to live?" Susan dared to voice the question that Cor could not.

Taurin slowly raised his head. "I've done what I can, but it's not enough. He has an hour to live, give or take."

Cor's eyes filled with tears and he swiped his hand angrily across his face. The tears blurred, causing his vision to be distorted. Motherly arms encircled him from behind and he leaned into the embrace.

"Shhh," Susan whispered in his ear as she held him tightly, tears filling her own eyes. "It's all right to cry."

"I-I just thought h-he would r-recover," Cor confessed brokenly.

"So did I," Susan murmured. "We all did."

"Your majesty!" A faun guard burst into the room, hesitating awkwardly as he took in the situation. "I am sorry to intrude, Queen Susan, but the captain of the guard requests your presence at the gate."

"Is something wrong?" Susan asked as she raised her head.

"Begging your pardon, but I should think so," the guard replied. "I saw a great pillar of smoke rising from the west. Looks like a forest fire to me."

"I will come," Susan decided. "I'll return in a few minutes," she promised Cor as she squeezed him tightly. She kissed his cheek and smoothed his hair as she stood up. She hurriedly followed after the guard, casting a worried look back at Cor and Taurin who bent over Corin's still form.

* * *

**Author's note: **I'd like to give a shout out to my sister who made a beautiful new cover for the story! Woohoo! Didn't she do a wonderful job on the faces?

Secondly, anybody remember several months ago when I asked you to consider nominating this story to win a Lion Award? Well, the nomination process is complete and voting/rating at begun! If you are still willing to help "Born For This" win an award, please head to www. thelionscall fan-creations/judge-lion-awards/ (remove the spaces). You'll find "Born For This" listed under several categories (the Rillian Award, the Eustace Award, and the Puddleglum Award). You can only vote once for the story, so I would prefer you to vote for it under the "Rilian Award: Best Alternate Universe Story, Long or Short". However, if you feel that it fits a different category better, feel free to vote for it in that category. Voting ends May 31st. Thank you so much!


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